


Before You Go

by lostresidentevilpotter



Series: What If? [15]
Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:40:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27733951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostresidentevilpotter/pseuds/lostresidentevilpotter
Summary: She knows she shouldn’t be communicating with anyone on the radio, but when a voice comes across it, she can’t help herself.Or, Alicia develops a hopeless crush on a stranger. Starts during season 2.
Relationships: Alicia Clark & Madison Clark, Alicia Clark & Nick Clark, Althea & Alicia Clark, Althea/Alicia Clark (one-sided), Althea/Isabelle (Fear the Walking Dead)
Series: What If? [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1456003
Comments: 60
Kudos: 69





	1. radio

**Author's Note:**

> So I finish one major project just to turn around and start another. Why can't I give myself a break? This was supposed to be short, but I'm almost 12,000 words in with no end in sight. This story is 100% prompted by the fact that I'm rewatching Fear from the beginning, and I'm most the way through season 2 right now, so we'll see where this story goes. It kind of follows the storyline from season 2, kind of veers off in places. Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

Strand outlines numerous rules when the Clark/Manawa and Salazar families board his yacht. No running on his deck. No leaving your shit lying around anywhere outside of your cabin unless you want it thrown overboard. And no doing anything reckless. Apparently Strand defines “reckless” broadly, anything from hailing other survivors to using too much of their toilet paper stash too quickly. Strand takes every opportunity to remind them all that the _Abigail_ is _his_ boat.

Alicia doesn’t seek out the radio. She just comes across it as she’s snooping around the ship on their third day on the _Abigail_. She’s already tired of playing chess with Nick, tired of playing poker with Nick, Chris, and Travis. She’s laid out on the deck and tanned. She’s slept in and taken naps to the point where she ends up lying awake wishing she could sleep more. And it’s only day three. So when she spots the CB radio, she checks her surroundings and snatches it up.

This is exactly what Strand meant by reckless. Theoretically, Alicia could hold down the button on the microphone and speak into it, but she tells herself that’s not why she’s taking the radio. She’s taking it because she wants to see what she can find out. No one else seems to be monitoring the radio, as far as she knows. That’s not true. Strand probably is, in secret, but if he knows anything, he isn’t sharing it with the rest of them. It’s understandable, considering they’re all basically strangers.

Alicia just listens the entire first week she has the CB radio in her possession. She stores it in her cabin’s small closet, hidden beneath her clothes, when she’s not around. But as chatter only grows over the radio during the first week, Alicia finds herself spending more and more time locked in her cabin, listening intently to the strangers passing information back and forth on the different channels. She starts jotting notes in a notebook, listing the channels and the typical users as she discovers their names.

By the end of the first week, roughly half of the users have gone silent. Occasionally someone will call for them and receive no response. Aaron is the first person she witnesses this happening to.

“Allison, are you there?” he asks. “Can you hear me?” After ten minutes of silence, Aaron tries again. And again. And again. Allison doesn’t respond. His story isn’t unique, Alicia quickly learns. But there’s one Alicia can’t help but to follow a little more closely than the rest.

It starts like this.

“Hey, Ray. Can you hear me, man?” The voice sounds like it belongs to a woman, and her voice is kinda soothing to listen to.

“You know I hate using this thing, Al,” Ray responds. His voice is gravelly. He sounds like a heavy smoker, maybe, with a hint of a southern accent. “Who knows who the fuck’s listening to us?”

“Yeah, well, normally I’d agree, but we’re running low on options,” Al says. “Look, did you get the footage or not?”

“Yeah, I’ve got the footage,” Ray says. “And it’s more than damning. Did you get the boat?”

“I’m on the boat. How do you think I’m contacting you?”

“No need to be a smartass, Al,” Ray replies. “I’ll meet you at the dock.”

That’s it. That’s the entire first conversation. Alicia flips the notebook open to a new page and writes at the top:

_Channel 7: Al + Ray_

Alicia pauses for a moment, staring at the two names, before she writes on the first line: _Ray has the footage – footage of what? Al’s on the boat, intending to get Ray at the dock._ She fiddles with the radio for a few more minutes then stores it away. God, she’s getting so bored, she’s documenting other people’s lives. She puts on a bikini and heads out on the deck to try to get some more sun.

She can’t sleep that night, thanks to the four hour nap she accidentally takes on Strand’s couch right before dinner. Alicia knows she has to be careful, knows it’s a possibility that her mom and Travis might be able to hear the radio through the wall if it’s too loud. She can’t help herself. She switches it back on and lounges back in her bed, notebook close by. She switches to channel seven and waits.

To her surprise, a familiar voice speaks right away. “Danny!” Al hisses. “We can’t wait much longer! You need to hurry!”

Alicia’s eyebrows raise, and she picks up her pen. She makes an addition at the top of the page.

_Channel 7: Al + Ray + Danny_

Alicia waits eagerly for Danny to respond. After a few minutes pass, she gets Al again instead.

“Danny? Are you there? Answer your fucking radio!”

Danny does not answer his fucking radio.

_No Danny?_ Alicia writes. She taps the pen against the notebook, waiting to see if Al’s going to say anything else. She waits almost twenty minutes before giving up and switching the radio off. As far as Alicia knows, Danny never responds.

When three days go by without hearing anything from Al or Ray on the radio, Alicia nearly crosses them off as another casualty. And then, on the fourth day of silence, at six p.m., Al is back.

“Hey, this is Althea. If you’re hearing this, my partner, Ray, and I are here to help. Just give us a call on channel seven.”

Alicia scribbles this information quickly as Al repeats herself, and Alicia waits for someone to respond. She isn’t surprised when she doesn’t hear any new voices, but she’s still a little disappointed. Alicia checks back at six p.m. the next day, and sure enough, the same message goes out. It’s Al again, and for the first time since she’d started monitoring the radio, Alicia feels the urge to say something.

_No_ , she warns herself. _It’s not worth it. You don’t know what these people are up to_.

*

That attitude lasts a whole week before Alicia cracks.

Alicia makes sure there’s no one around in the minutes leading up to six p.m., makes sure everyone is off doing something. By now, Alicia’s mostly left alone when she wants to be. Alicia flips the radio on and waits for Al’s usual call. It’s happened every day this week, right at six p.m., and Alicia expects no less.

Sure enough, the call comes through, and Alicia already knows what she’s going to do.

“Hey, um, Althea?” Alicia says. Her heart pounds in her chest, and she swallows hard, hands trembling. Strand would murder her if he knew what she was up to. “I heard you. I’m here.”

There’s a brief pause before Al’s voice comes across the radio again. “No way,” she chuckles. “There’s really someone out there?”

Alicia closes her eyes, forces herself to breathe deeply. “Yeah,” Alicia answers. “I’m here.”

“What’s your name?” Al asks next.

“Alicia.”

“Alicia,” Al says, like she’s testing the name out. Alicia smiles to herself. It’s kind of odd, hearing a complete stranger say her name to her like they’ve known each other longer than just a few moments. “It’s nice to meet you, Alicia. I’m Al.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little dangerous to be offering to help strangers, Al?” Alicia teases.

“Oh, it’s definitely dangerous,” Al says. Alicia can hear the smile in the woman’s voice. It’s weird, not having any idea at all what this woman might look like, who she might be. Knowing only a name and a voice. “What’s life without a little risk, though, right?”

“I think you’re taking an unnecessary risk,” Alicia says.

“And you aren’t? You answered a stranger on the radio.”

“You offered to help.”

“And what can I help you with, Alicia?” Al asks. Alicia feels herself blush, hopes for whatever reason that Al will keep saying her name.

“I’m just…bored,” Alicia admits.

Al laughs. “There are worse things to be than _bored_ nowadays, sweetheart.”

If Alicia was blushing before, she’s really blushing now. “Yeah, well, doesn’t sound like you’re exactly getting a lot of calls, huh?”

“You’re the first one brave enough to answer.”

“Bored enough, you mean,” Alicia corrects.

“Right. Anyway, Alicia, where are you from?”

Alicia hesitates a moment. It’s not like she isn’t aware that Al – and her partner, Ray, and whoever else might be with them – could be dangerous. Alicia knows there’s only so much she should reveal, but what’s her former hometown going to tell Al about her or her family? She plays it safe, though, simply answers, “Los Angeles.”

“I guess you got out before the bombings started, then,” Al replies.

“Yeah,” Alicia says. “Just barely. But what about you? Where are you from?”

There’s a slight pause before Al answers, “I was living in Houston when all this started. But I guess you could say…I’m from all over.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alicia snorts.

“I travel a lot. You know, for work.”

“What do you do?” Alicia asks.

“I’m a journalist,” Al answers. “What about you?”

Again, Alicia pauses. Maybe she should lie, make something up about having a job rather than telling Al she’s eighteen and barely out of high school. “I didn’t have a job,” Alicia admits. “I was too busy busting my ass to make sure I’d get into Berkeley.”

“Well, shit,” Al replies. She sounds…vaguely impressed? “So did you get in?”

Alicia’s teeth sink into her lower lip. “Yes.”

“That’s quite an accomplishment.”

“Maybe for some people.”

“You sound a little cocky,” Al chuckles. “For a good reason, obviously.”

“Well, you’re a journalist,” Alicia says. “Where’d you graduate from?”

“Stanford.”

Alicia chokes. “What? Seriously?”

“Why would I lie?”

“I don’t know,” Alicia replies. “Why would you go to Stanford for journalism?”

“Hey, you don’t get to judge me,” Al laughs. “You barely know me.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Alicia says. She exhales heavily. “But it’s good to hear someone else’s voice. Being stuck with the same people every hour of every day can get…tiring.”

“I understand,” Al says. “My partner, Ray, got on my nerves under normal circumstances, and now we can’t get away from each other.”

“Yeah, I normally don’t spend so much time with my family. But I guess I’m just glad they’re still here.”

“Yeah, that’s a good thing. Well, look, I’m always at the radio at six p.m., but you knew that already. Feel free to give me a call anytime. You know, if you need someone to talk to, since you’re so bored out there.”

“I will,” Alicia promises. “It was nice to talk to you.”

“Yeah, same to you.”

Alicia grabs her notebook after putting the radio away and writes: _Al from Houston – journalist (Stanford)._

*

Alicia decides it would seem desperate if she responded to Al’s transmission the next day, so she forces herself to ignore it. She can’t help but wonder if Al’s as disappointed as she is.

*

“What’ve you been doing, locked in your cabin all the time?” Madison questions.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Alicia retorts. She pushes her sunglasses onto the top of her head, squinting across the deck at her mother. “I sleep.”

“You sleep? So…what? You sleep five to six hours a day and then ten hours a night? Don’t lie to me,” Madison says.

“I found a stash of notebooks,” Alicia says defensively. “I’m writing or whatever, okay?”

It’s not technically a lie, but it’s not like Alicia’s writing anything close to a novel, or even journal entries. But it’s not a lie. Alicia _is_ writing. Maybe that’s why Madison doesn’t grill her any further.

“Okay, just…stay out of trouble,” Madison warns.

Alicia rolls her eyes. “How can I cause trouble locked in my cabin?”

*

“Al? It’s Alicia.”

There’s a delay of about a minute or so before the radio crackles and Al’s voice chimes, “Hey! Alicia! It’s been a couple days.”

“Sounds like you missed me,” Alicia jokes.

“Oh, you know it,” Al says, and Alicia can’t tell if she’s being teased or not. “Where’ve you been?”

“You know, doing maintenance on the boat and shit. Busy work, mainly.”

“Always shit to do,” Al agrees. “No rest for the weary? Or is it no rest for the wicked?”

“Maybe it’s both.”

Al laughs, and Alicia’s heart always beats a little faster when she makes Al laugh. She’s incredibly glad that Al always laughs over the radio instead of doing it so Alicia can’t hear. “It’s definitely both,” Al says. “But don’t tell me you’ve only been doing work. What’ve you been doing to pass the time?”

“What have _you_ been doing?” Alicia counters.

“Been catching up on all the books I’ve been meaning to read,” Al replies easily. “Napping, too. I didn’t always get to sleep regularly doing my job, you know? Uh, let me think. I’ve done some sunbathing, but I usually just end up napping. I’ve got quite the sunburn now, thank you very much.”

“I’ve spent too much time in the sun,” Alicia says. “We’ve been playing games. Scrabble. Monopoly. Chess. Any card game you can think of. Gets old real quick, though.”

“Yeah, we’ve played some games, but Ray’s more interested in working his way through his Sudoku book.”

Alicia hesitates, suddenly unsure of herself, but she asks, “How’re you guys doing? Are you okay?”

“We’re okay,” Al confirms. “Driving each other up the wall, but we aren’t going to starve anytime soon, hopefully. How about you?”

“We’re okay for now,” Alicia says. “As far as I know. I don’t know. Sometimes I forget that normal things can still kill you, too.”

“Yeah, no kidding. One day at a time, I guess.”

*

“I didn’t even get a chance, you know?”

It’s late. Too late. Madison and Travis are asleep in the cabin next to Alicia’s. She could easily wake them by accident. Alicia had taken a chance, calling Al over the radio past ten o’clock. She didn’t think Al would pick up, assumed Al would be asleep. But Al picked up, and two hours later, Alicia’s spilling – well, almost everything about herself. She’s careful to keep the conversation away from their current situation. She’s never mentioned how many people are here, what kind of supplies they have, or anything about the fact that they’re on a fucking yacht.

“I know, kid,” Al says.

“I’m not a kid,” Alicia replies.

Al snorts. “You’re young.”

“Yeah, and what are you? Forty?”

Al laughs. “No, no. I’m twenty seven.”

So that’s nine years between them. What’s nine years? At least, Alicia doesn’t think a nine year gap is that bad. Except it’s clear that Al’s had a real life, the kind of life Alicia’s been robbed of.

“Practically ancient,” Alicia jokes.

“Hardly.”

Alicia should really shut this whole thing down. It’s not appropriate to talk to a twenty seven year old journalist that she’s never met in person. She’s starting to think of Al as something like a friend, and Alicia doesn’t even know what Al looks like. And for all Alicia knows, Ray might not just be Al’s business partner. Maybe he’s her boyfriend. Or husband.

And besides, this crush is stupid. She barely knows Al, but she _feels_ like she knows Al. The more they talk, the more Alicia learns –

“Why are you up so late, Alicia?” Al questions. “You never call past ten. You definitely don’t stay on past midnight.”

“I don’t know. I guess I just needed someone to talk to. Why are _you_ up so late?”

“I’m always up late,” Al dismisses. “My sleep schedule is fucked, remember?”

“You know,” Alicia says, “it would’ve been nice to meet you before this mess.”

“Same goes for you, kid. Now get some sleep. You can call back tomorrow.”

*

“What is this?” Strand demands. He slams the CB radio down on the table in front of Alicia. “No, let me rephrase. _Why_ do you have this?”

Alicia stays silent. Madison and Travis intervene, but it’s not long before they look to her for answers, too.

“What did you tell them?” Strand demands. “If you have this, I know you’re talking to people! What did you tell them about us?”

“Nothing!” Alicia insists. “Jesus.”

“Yeah, Jesus! You’re going to bring trouble straight to us!” Strand shouts.

“Okay, calm down,” Madison interjects. “She said she didn’t tell them anything about us.”

“The fact that they even know we exist is bad enough,” Strand snaps. “I guess I can’t take my eyes off the radar now.”

*

Two days pass before anything happens. And it’s the longest two days of Alicia’s life on the _Abigail_ so far, now that she doesn’t have the radio. So she gets into a white bikini, puts her sunglasses on, and lays out on a towel on the deck. She doesn’t remember falling asleep, but a commotion wakes her up.

“Just shoot at them already!” Strand orders.

“Daniel, no!” Madison yells. She shoves the rifle in Daniel’s hands down until it points at the deck. “They were obviously attacked! Whoever did that to them…they could be coming for us next. So let’s at least talk to these people and find out what happened.”

“Madison is right,” Daniel agrees. “They’re on a life raft, and they’re outnumbered. We can talk to them.”

“And they’re going to want our help,” Strand spits. “They’ll take up resources we don’t have.”

“What’s going on?” Alicia says dumbly. She’s barely awake, and she stumbles to her feet. She turns to stare out at the wreckage at the back of the _Abigail_. There’s a capsized boat, full of holes, debris floating in the water around it. And there’s a life raft carrying three people. “We have to help them,” Alicia says.

“It’s my boat,” Strand says.

“Yeah, well, you’re outnumbered, too,” Alicia points out. “And my mom is right. Whoever did that to them is still out there. They might know something.”

“This is all your fault,” Strand hisses. He points a finger at Alicia. “You were the one contacting people on the radio.”

“This is _not_ my –”

“Okay, enough,” Travis cuts in. “It’s already been settled. We’ll haul them in, talk to them. See what they know. And we’ll go from there.”

“You’re ruining my plans,” Strand says.

“And you’re ruining my mood,” Madison replies. She sets her eyes on Alicia. “You should really put some clothes on.”

“I’ll wear what I want, thank you,” Alicia retorts, but she can’t help but think maybe her mother’s right. She shouldn’t meet complete strangers in a bikini. But she also loves resisting Madison at every turn, and the sour look that crosses Madison’s face might make this worth it. “I _am_ an adult, after all,” Alicia adds, just to rub it in a little.

“You just stay back,” Madison says. “Let us handle it.”

Us. The adults. Even after all they’ve been through, Madison and Travis are still content to treat Alicia, Nick, and Chris like they’re incompetent children. Shit, Strand isn’t much better, but at least Daniel seems to think they’re capable of handling themselves.

“You let them on this boat,” Strand says, “then we’re doing this my way. You just hang on.”

He disappears and returns with an assault rifle and three sets of handcuffs, and even Madison doesn’t argue with that.

“I’ll take Chris and Ofelia,” Daniel announces. “We’ll be on the upper deck. You know, in case these people try anything stupid.”

“Good idea,” Strand agrees. “Okay. Haul them in.”


	2. acquainted

Alicia crosses her arms over her chest, staring out at the raft as it’s slowly but surely pulled closer and closer to the deck. Three people. Two women and a man. They each seem to have a bag with them. Once they’re close enough, Strand aims the assault rifle at the man. Immediately, the three people raise their hands in surrender.

“Hey, we don’t want any trouble,” the man calls. “We were attacked. We need help.”

“We see that,” Madison says. “We want to talk, but if we’re going to let you on the boat…” She trails off and takes the handcuffs from Strand. “You have to do this our way.”

“Deal,” the man says. Alicia studies him for a moment from behind her sunglasses. He’s older than the two women, has a little bit of a gut, and his gray hair is thinning. He’s maybe in his early fifties, if Alicia had to guess. He’s a big guy, and Travis and Strand target him first, get him off the boat first. He’s probably 6’6” and he doesn’t resist when Strand forces his arms behind his back, doesn’t resist when Madison cuffs him, doesn’t resist when Strand strips his bag and all of his weapons off of him.

“Sit him on the couch,” Strand orders, tossing the man’s weapons and bag off to the side. Travis and Nick lead the man inside. “Now, the ladies.”

The women are both tall, too. The first one that comes off the raft has a serious look on her face, jaw clenched. She willingly hands over her bag and weapons, but not without warning Strand to be careful with her stuff. She lets Madison slap handcuffs on her, but she doesn’t look happy about it. The wind blows her bangs back from her face, and she looks at Alicia as she walks by. Alicia stares back, knowing the woman can’t see her eyes in the reflective lens of her sunglasses.

The second woman, though, steps onto the deck with a wide grin on her face. Alicia studies the woman curiously for a while. She hands over her bag, and she’s the only one of the three to put her own hands behind her back, all while grinning. Her hair is brown, buzzed on one side, and she has a flannel shirt unbuttoned over a tank top. As Madison cuffs her, she looks over at Alicia, and somehow, her grin widens.

“Quite the welcome, huh?” the woman says, laughing to herself. Alicia’s jaw slackens, and her arms uncross. The woman’s face and neck are red, slightly sunburned. Alicia watches the woman’s brown eyes flick up and down her body, watches the woman’s eyebrows quirk upward. “You gonna say anything or are you just gonna stare at me, sweetheart?”

No. It can’t be –

“Al?” Alicia questions.

Madison freezes, and Strand nearly turns the assault rifle on Alicia. “You know her?” Strand asks. He jabs the barrel of the rifle into Al’s upper back as Al laughs in disbelief.

“Alicia?” Al says. “No fucking way.”

Alicia yanks the sunglasses off her face, hooks them off the center of her bikini top. Her eyes meet Al’s, and Alicia still hasn’t found a way to pull her own jaw shut yet.

“Get her gun,” Strand commands, nodding toward Alicia. Tentatively, Alicia steps toward Al. She forces her hand not to shake as she pulls the handgun out of the holster at Al’s hip. Strand bends down, pulls an almost completely concealed knife out of Al’s boot.

“Hold onto that gun,” Madison says quietly. She doesn’t say anything about Alicia knowing Al, and Alicia winces as Strand turns a death glare on her before he leads Al inside with the other woman and man. The man is probably Ray, Alicia realizes. The other woman, though – Al never mentioned they had anyone else on board.

“Maybe you were right,” Alicia mutters once it’s just her and Madison left on the deck. “Maybe I should’ve put some clothes on.”

*

“They don’t need all of us crowding them,” Madison says. “Besides, Alicia knows this – this Al woman. Maybe they’ll be more receptive to her.”

“They talk or we shoot them,” Strand says. “It’s not that complicated.”

“We don’t have to be monsters,” Madison argues.

“I’ll do it,” Alicia decides. “You all just – just wait out on the deck. I’ll talk to them.”

“We’ll be close by,” Madison tells her. “Daniel will have eyes on them at all times.”

What Madison means, Alicia knows, is that Daniel will be watching their guests in case he needs to step in and shoot them.

“I’m not worried,” Alicia assures her mom. She pats her hip, where she has Al’s handgun shoved into the waistband of the jean shorts she pulled over her bikini bottoms. “Besides, Al seemed…nice.”

“Over the radio,” Strand reminds. “Where you were at a safe distance. But now that they’re here, you have no idea who they might be.”

“I’ll find out what happened to them,” Alicia says. “Just give me some time.”

*

Alicia walks into the _Abigail’s_ main living area, and all three sets of eyes land on her. Al’s seated on the couch between Ray and the other woman, all of them with their hands cuffed behind their backs. Alicia’s sunglasses still hang from her bikini top, and she almost considers putting them back on to shield her eyes.

“Alicia!” Al greets, rather cheerily given their circumstances.

Alicia grimaces. “Al,” she says.

“You know her?” the other woman blurts, twisting to look at Al.

“We’re acquainted,” Al answers.

“What the fuck have you been doing?” the other woman hisses.

“Alicia, this is Isabelle,” Al says, ignoring the glare she’s suddenly on the receiving end of from Isabelle. “And Ray.”

Alicia gingerly takes a seat on the couch directly across from Al. “They only let you on the boat because they want to know more about who destroyed yours.”

“Who’s _they_?” Isabelle asks.

Alicia ignores her. “Just explain what happened.”

“We aren’t going to hurt you, Alicia,” Al says. “Any of you. You know we aren’t like that.”

“I don’t actually know anything,” Alicia replies. “Didn’t even know what you looked like until right now.”

Al grins. “Are you disappointed? Impressed? I can’t tell, but let me say, I’m a little surprised by you myself.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Isabelle snaps before Alicia can think of something to say back. She just wishes there was a way to hide how her face flushes bright red. “You know I hate when you flirt with other people in front of me.”

“Relax, babe,” Al says. “We’re just friends.”

Alicia inhales sharply as her blood runs cold. She debates pulling the gun from her hip, using it to get them to focus. Something stops her, even as her heart hammers in her chest.

“What. Happened?” Alicia says through her teeth.

“We don’t know,” Ray answers as Isabelle continues to glare at a grinning Al. “One minute, everything’s going fine, next minute, a boat pops up on the radar, and before we could try to contact them, they were shooting at us, and we were sinking.”

“We barely escaped,” Isabelle jumps in, finally tearing her sour gaze away from – her girlfriend? Her wife? Alicia can’t be sure which it might be. “They scavenged what they could from the wreckage. At least, that’s what it looked like as we were trying to get away.”

“Who were they?” Alicia asks. “How many of them were there?”

“At least two,” Al says nonchalantly. “At least, I only saw two men. They must be pirates or some shit.”

“They’re targeting other boats,” Ray adds.

“Why?” Alicia murmurs.

“We don’t know,” Isabelle says. She exhales heavily. “What are you going to do with us?”

Alicia shrugs, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “That’s not really for me to decide. It’s not my boat.”

“You can convince them,” Al says softly. Softly enough that no one outside of the room will be able to hear her. “Alicia, come on. You know we can’t go back on that raft. It might as well be a death sentence.”

Alicia presses her lips together. “You’ll have to take it up with Strand. It’s his boat.”

“Surely you can change his mind,” Al says. She flashes a broad smile, but Alicia shakes her head. “We’ve talked quite a bit, haven’t we? You know me. You can convince your people –”

“I can’t,” Alicia cuts in. She gets to her feet. “And I don’t really know you, and you don’t really know me.” Except Alicia feels like she knows Al, even if the fact that she has a girlfriend (or wife?) never happened to come up. Alicia had gone on and on about Matt, and Al still didn’t bring Isabelle up. Alicia can’t help but to feel a little bitter. “It’s up to Strand,” Alicia says, and she walks out onto the deck.

*

“So?” Strand questions.

“Another boat attacked them,” Alicia says. “Al said she only saw two men and assumed they were pirates, because they scavenged what they could from the wreckage.”

“So…what?” Nick says. “There’s a boat just going around sinking other boats, hoping they’ll be able to scrape together some supplies? That seems wasteful.”

“It’s all just guesswork,” Madison mutters. “They don’t know anything for sure.”

“At least now we know that there’s a threat out there,” Alicia says. “If any other boats get near us –”

“We’ll what?” Strand snorts. “It’s not like we have any way to attack them first. The _Abigail_ is a yacht, not a warship!”

“Well, maybe we can at least outrun them,” Madison says. Her eyes flick toward the living area, toward the couch where their captives still sit. “We have to decide what to do with our…guests.”

“Throw them overboard for all I care,” Strand scoffs. “I want them off my boat.”

“Putting them back in that raft is as good as killing them,” Alicia argues.

“I don’t care,” Strand sneers. “Get them the hell off my boat. We have enough people as it is draining my resources.”

Madison grabs Strand’s arm, stopping him from leaving the deck. “We can drop them at the shore,” she says. “Then they’ll be off your boat, but at least they’ll stand a chance.”

“It’ll be dark soon,” Strand points out. “I’m not going near the shore after dark.”

“Wait, wait,” Alicia interjects. “Dropping them in California could easily be a death sentence, too.”

“Well, that’s their goddamn problem, not mine,” Strand says. “We’re dumping them on the shore tomorrow, first thing.”

“What do we do with them in the meantime?” Madison asks. “Leave them handcuffed on that couch? Invite them to dinner?”

Strand scoffs. “Invite them to – now you want me to _feed_ them, too? I don’t care what you do with them. If you think they won’t kill us, go release them.” Strand makes a point of checking the magazine on his rifle. “I’ll make sure that _I_ will live, no matter what happens.”

Madison rolls her eyes and digs the keys to the handcuffs out of her pocket. “We took all their weapons,” Madison says. “Go release them.” Madison presses the keys into Alicia’s palm. “Tell them they can stay until morning, then they can either take their chances in the raft or we’ll drop them on shore.”

*

Al grins as Alicia motions for Ray to stand and turn around. Alicia unlocks his handcuffs then unlocks Al and Isabelle.

“You convinced Strand,” Al says, rubbing at her wrists.

“No,” Alicia says. “He said you can stay until morning, and then you can take your chances with the raft or we’ll drop you off on shore.”

Al laughs. “I’m not going back to California.”

“Then I guess it’s the raft,” Alicia says. She glances over her shoulder. “Don’t try anything. Strand’s more than willing to shoot you.”

“You’ve been surprisingly hospitable, actually,” Al replies. “We’ve dealt with much worse.”

Isabelle grabs Al by the elbow, stops her from moving closer to Alicia. “Is there a bathroom somewhere?” Isabelle asks.

Alicia nods. “Down that hall, to the left. And there’s an open room, but there are only two beds in it, so…I guess one of you has to stay on the couch for the night?”

“We’ll work it out,” Al dismisses. She smiles at Alicia then winks. “Don’t worry about us, sweetheart.”

“Go,” Isabelle says, pushing Al by the shoulder toward the hall. Alicia watches them go, only follows after them when she hears the bathroom door open and shut. She can’t avoid them, anyway. Her room is in that direction, and that’s where she heads. Ray’s waiting in the hall when she gets there.

“I, um – I’m not sure where the open room is,” Ray says.

“It’s that one,” Alicia says. She points it out to him then disappears into her own room. The only open room happens to be the room on the other side of hers, the one not occupied by her mother and Travis, obviously. Alicia sets her sunglasses aside, digs through her meager belongings to select one of the three shirts available to her.

It isn’t long before she hears the bathroom door open and shut again, before the door to the room next to Alicia’s does the same. And Alicia can’t help herself. She moves toward the wall, breathing raggedly. Alicia listens carefully, has to strain to make out their words.

“What are we going to do?” Ray asks. “They have all our weapons. We have no boat, no supplies – we are literally at the mercy of these strangers.”

“Relax,” Al says. “I’ve spent hours on the radio with Alicia the last two weeks or so.”

“So what?” Isabelle counters. “We don’t know anything about them, and we’re defenseless.”

“We can spend one night here without any problems,” Al says. “And we’ll handle whatever comes our way in the morning.”

“When did you become the fucking voice of reason?” Ray says.

“I have my moments,” Al laughs. “Just don’t do anything stupid, and who knows? Maybe they’ll change their minds.”

“ _They_ don’t have to change their minds,” Isabelle says. “Strand has to change his mind.”

*

Strand spares very little for their guests when dinner rolls around. He digs up three cans of vegetables he doesn’t particularly care for and leaves them on the bar.

“Touch my alcohol and die,” Strand warns. He still has the rifle slung over his shoulder, another gun at his hip.

“He’s been saying that to us since day one,” Madison says to Al.

“He’s been saying a lot of shit since day one,” Alicia mutters.

“We appreciate you letting us stay the night,” Al says. “And thanks for feeding us. We know that your friend isn’t making things easy.”

Madison huffs. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	3. curious

“You shouldn’t trust these people.”

“Who said I trust them?” Alicia retorts. “It’s your move. Hurry up.”

Nick hums and moves his knight. Alicia swiftly takes it with her queen, sets Nick’s knight off to the side of the chess board. It’s a pleasant night. Not cold, stars shining in the sky above them. Alicia considers sleeping out on the deck, and maybe she would, if she wasn’t slightly worried about their visitors.

“You don’t have to say that you trust them,” Nick says. His eyes don’t leave the board as he speaks, but he waves his hand over his face. “Your face says it all.”

“I don’t trust them.”

“But you want to. You want to let them stay.”

“I don’t want to kill them.”

Nick makes another move, and Alicia squints at the board. “Making them get off the boat isn’t killing them.”

“Might as well be.”

“Now who’s taking forever to make a move?”

“You can’t win,” Alicia says matter-of-factly. “I need ten more moves at the most to checkmate you.”

“You’re the worst,” Nick grumbles. “We should stop playing chess.”

“You should play better.”

“Just get it over with.”

As Nick tries to end the game as quickly as possible, someone climbs the steps up to the upper deck. Alicia doesn’t bother to look, assuming it’s their mother or maybe Travis or Chris. Maybe even Ofelia.

“Gotcha,” Alicia says. “Checkmate.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nick says. “I’ll get you next time – at a different game, though. No more chess.”

“You’re just a sore loser.”

“You’re a sore winner. Always rubbing it in my face,” Nick says.

They exchange a smile as the person who stepped out onto the deck says, “You mind? If you aren’t going to play another round.”

Alicia startles, and Nick looks over his shoulder. Alicia’s eyes lock onto Al’s easygoing smile. Al’s got her flannel shirt tied around her waist, arms bared by her tank top. More than just Al’s neck and face are red from the sunburn; her arms are pretty red, too. Nick looks warily at Alicia, but Alicia nods.

“Yeah,” she says. She sweeps the remaining pieces off the board and starts resetting it. “Let’s play.”

Nick gets up from the booth but leans closer to Alicia and whispers, “You good?”

“Fine,” she dismisses. She taps the gun at her hip with one finger. “Go on in.”

“Holler if you need something.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Nick disappears down the steps leading to the lower deck as Al takes a seat in the booth across from Alicia. Alicia finishes setting the board back up then turns the board around so the white pieces are in front of Al.

“You can move first,” Alicia offers.

“So you take this game seriously?” Al teases.

Alicia shrugs. “I’m good.”

“Apparently you’re better at it than your brother.”

Alicia isn’t quite sure how Al knows Nick is her brother. She never gave Al any names when they spoke over the radio. Maybe she figured it out just by observing them the last few hours. Al makes the first move, and Alicia leans forward, resting her elbows on the table, eyes locked on the board. Alicia’s vaguely aware that Al is watching her stare at the board, watching her think, and when Alicia finally makes her move and lifts her eyes, Al has a curious look on her face.

“What?” Alicia says.

“Nothing,” Al says. She makes another move. “You should know, I’m much better at cards than at chess.”

Alicia shrugs. “Then this game should be quick.”

“So I was right about you being a little bit cocky,” Al chuckles.

“You said I _sound_ cocky,” Alicia corrects. “Don’t move there.”

Al raises her eyebrows but places her bishop back where it started. Al takes a moment to evaluate the board, but Alicia refuses to stare at Al the way Al had been willing to stare at her. 

“I like your shirt,” Al comments. Alicia has to glance down to see what she’s wearing. Blue plaid shirt, unbuttoned over her white bikini top with the ends of the shirt tied together in the front. Alicia looks back up, locks eyes with Al.

“Don’t flatter me,” Alicia says.

“You know you can talk to me,” Al replies. “I mean, we’ve been talking for –”

“That’s different.”

“Different how?” Al questions. “Because you have to occupy the same space as me now?”

Alicia’s eyes roll. Al finally makes a move, and Alicia makes hers quickly. Al exhales, returns her eyes to the board. A breeze starts to pick up, blowing Alicia’s hair into her face. She gathers it in her hands and secures it back with the hair tie around her wrist. Al makes another move, and a smile flickers on Alicia’s face. She takes a pawn, but that’s just the start.

“Your girlfriend doesn’t seem too happy to be here,” Alicia finally says.

Al scoffs, shakes her head, but says, “She’s grateful. She knows we would’ve died out there without your help.”

“You might die out there anyway.”

“We all might die out there anyway,” Al retorts. She makes a move; Alicia takes another piece of Al’s from the board. “Isabelle is – she’s complicated.”

_She exists_ , Alicia thinks, but she refuses to raise that point. Refuses to ask Al why she never bothered to bring her up, but that opens up the possibility of Al asking why Alicia never mentioned that her family was on a yacht with three strangers. That’s if Al realizes that Daniel, Ofelia, and Strand are basically strangers to the Clark/Manawa family. Maybe she has no clue.

They keep playing. Al rubs at her reddened neck, winces slightly.

“You weren’t lying,” Alicia says. “You’ve got quite the sunburn.”

“It’s my own fault,” Al says. Her eyes land on Alicia’s face, drop slightly, then flick back up. “You don’t look burned, at least.”

“Plenty of sunscreen.”

“Right.”

Alicia swipes one of Al’s bishops, and Al exhales. Alicia smiles slightly to herself. There’s no way she can lose. She entertains the idea that maybe Al’s purposefully playing badly, but she can’t think of a reason why Al would let her win without a fight.

But she barely knows Al.

“Don’t have much to talk about?” Al questions.

“I’m thinking.”

“About what?” Al prompts.

“My next few moves.”

“That’s not – I’m going to lose no matter what, aren’t I?”

Alicia smirks. “Probably.”

“Then what’s the point of finishing this game?”

“Maybe there isn’t one.”

Al nods then leans back in the booth, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re a smart kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

Al grins. “I know.”

“Then why do you keep –”

“Because it bothers you.”

Alicia rolls her eyes and pushes the board off to the side of the table. “Yeah, well, you won’t be around long enough to really bother me.”

“Ouch.”

“What do you want, Al?” Alicia asks.

“What do you mean?”

“You waited for Nick to leave, offered to play a game with me,” Alicia says. “Why? Why not just go to bed?”

Al laughs. “I’m the one who’s stuck on the couch,” she explains. “The bed’s probably big enough to share with Isabelle, but, ah – she isn’t too happy with me right now. So couch it is.”

“There’s a second bed in my room,” Alicia says flatly. “You can have it, on two conditions.”

“What are the conditions?” Al asks.

“Tell me what you want, first,” Alicia says. “And don’t make me regret offering up the bed.”

Al uncrosses her arms, scratches at the back of her neck. “I thought we were friends,” Al says. “Friends can play a game of chess.”

“We hardly know each other.”

“We know lots about each other,” Al dismisses.

“Not as much as you think.”

“We know the important pieces.”

Alicia’s eyebrows shoot up toward her hairline. “I didn’t know about Isabelle.”

“Ah, well, we can’t always share everything.”

“I told you about Matt.”

“And I didn’t want to interrupt you to talk about my girlfriend,” Al says. “That seemed a little insensitive.”

“You could’ve brought her up. Or even told me more about Ray. You were putting both your names out there.”

“Yeah, well, Ray was mostly on board with the idea of reaching out for stories, and Isabelle wasn’t,” Al says.

“Stories?”

“We’re journalists. What’d you expect?”

Alicia blinks. “Was I just a story to you, Al? Just a way to pass the time?”

“Not at all.”

There’s no hesitation from Al, and she’s hard to read, but Alicia thinks she’s being genuine. Has no reason to think otherwise.

“Maybe reaching out is what made you a target,” Alicia says.

“Probably.” Al shrugs. “I guess we’ll figure something out on land.”

“California –”

“Has been bombed to shit,” Al finishes for her. “There’s nothing worthwhile left there. Or anywhere up the coast, as far as I’ve heard.”

“What have you heard?” Alicia says.

“Not much. If they bombed the coast, they probably hit every major city in the United States.” Al pauses, shakes her head. “Shit was going bad…well, everywhere.”

“The military rolled in,” Alicia says. “They might’ve failed in California, but maybe –”

“The military failed,” Al interrupts. “They failed in California, and they failed everywhere. And if they haven’t failed everywhere yet…then they will soon. But they couldn’t even keep themselves together.”

“What do you mean?”

Al smiles wryly, shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter,” she says softly.

“Right,” Alicia says. “Because it’s already over.”

“It’s already over.”

Alicia cleans the game up. They’re not going to finish it anyway.

*

“What would your mother say?” Al jokes as Alicia flips the light on. “Inviting strangers into your room?”

“What would your girlfriend say? Sharing a room with another woman?” Alicia retorts. “The bed against that wall is yours,” Alicia says, ignoring the grin on Al’s face. She unties the bottom of her plaid shirt and takes it off, throws it with the rest of her things. She pulls a T-shirt over her head before undoing the tie on the bikini, pulls it out from beneath the shirt and adds it to her pile. “Try not to keep me up.”

“No promises.”

“I told you not to make me regret this,” Alicia says. She pulls the covers back on her bed and drops down, exhaling heavily. “The couch is still out there. You can always go sleep on it.”

“Kicking me out now would just be mean, Alicia.”

Alicia wishes Al wouldn’t say her name. Alicia pulls Al’s handgun out from her waistband and tucks it beneath her pillow.

“Don’t kill me in my sleep,” Alicia says. She hears rustling, thinks maybe Al’s taking her pants off or something.

“As long as you don’t kill me in mine, sweetheart.”

“Deal.”

*

Alicia lies awake. It’s not surprising, but it frustrates her nonetheless. She can’t tell if Al’s asleep on the other side of the room or not. The thing is, if Alicia had just kept her mouth shut, then Al would be on the couch right now, and Alicia would be fast asleep.

“Not up for a late night conversation?” Al says.

Alicia startles and accidentally bangs her knee against the wall. She hisses in pain before rolling over and squinting through the darkness across the room. “What?” Alicia says, rubbing at her knee.

“We talked after midnight over the radio a few times,” Al muses. Alicia hears Al’s sheets rustling as she rolls over. “Not up for it now?”

“What could there be to talk about?” Alicia snaps.

“Maybe I’m not as observant as I like to think,” Al says, “but you don’t seem particularly happy to have met me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You seemed a lot more eager to talk over the radio,” Al says. “And now –”

“Maybe I’m just not happy with what’s happened to my life,” Alicia says.

“Seems like it’s more than just that.”

“Stop trying to analyze me,” Alicia replies. “Go to sleep.”

“Can’t. Neither can you.”

“I have nothing left to talk about,” Alicia says. “I think we just about covered everything.”

“I really did just enjoy talking to you over the radio,” Al says. “I didn’t have some sort of ulterior motive.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I didn’t say that,” Alicia mutters. “I just said _okay_.”

“Something is bothering you,” Al says. “And I don’t know why you can’t just tell me what it is.”

“What’s bothering me is that you’re still up and trying to carry a conversation,” Alicia says.

“You weren’t sleeping anyway.”

“I don’t normally sleep with strangers in my room with me.”

“You can’t really think of us as strangers,” Al says. “Not after the hours we spent talking.”

“Isabelle didn’t even know you were talking to anyone over the radio, did she?” Alicia says sharply. “When we had you handcuffed on the couch – she didn’t know what you’d been doing.”

“She’s overly cautious,” Al dismisses.

“She seemed to think you were flirting –”

“I’m just like that,” Al cuts in. “Isabelle knows, and even though it grates on her nerves, sometimes it’s a useful skill. You know. In certain situations. But Isabelle trusts me. We’ve been together forever, practically.”

“How long is forever?” Alicia asks softly.

Al hums while she thinks. “Like seven years? I’ve known her almost ten.”

Alicia sighs quietly. “Where’d you meet?” she asks.

“Stanford.”

Alicia snorts. “Right. I forgot about that.”

“We had a chemistry class together,” Al says. “Lab partners. I almost blew up the building – accidentally, of course. I wasn’t too good at chemistry. Or science.”

“Guess that’s why you ended up with journalism.”

“Hey!”

*

Alicia wakes up early to someone touching her face. She jolts awake, instinctively reaching for the gun stashed under her pillow, but she relaxes when her eyes land on her mother.

“Mom,” Alicia breathes. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, baby.”

“What’s going on?” Alicia yawns, laying her head back down. “It’s early.”

“I know. Your friend’s not even up yet.”

“Huh?”

Madison points over her shoulder at the bed on the opposite wall. Al’s still there, buried beneath the sheets.

“That was nice of you,” Madison says, keeping her voice low. “To offer up the empty bed.”

“Yeah, well, why make her sleep on the couch?” Alicia mutters. She throws the covers back, grabs the gun from under the pillow. “I’m guessing you need something.”

“Sort of.”

“Let me get dressed,” Alicia says. “I’ll be right out.”

“We’re meeting on the deck,” Madison informs. She glances over at Al, and maybe a look of distaste flickers across Madison’s face, or maybe Alicia just imagines it. “You should wake your friend,” Madison says. “Her people are already up and out there.”

“Wait – we’re dropping them already?” Alicia asks.

Madison presses her lips together. “Not quite.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the time this chapter went up, I was working on chapter ten for this story with no end in sight, so buckle up. It's another long one, my friends.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	4. shore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have my first final tomorrow, so I edited this chapter for you instead of studying. Hope you enjoy it!

Alicia changes into fresh clothes then shakes Al awake.

“What?” Al grumbles. “I’m not done sleeping yet.”

“We’re meeting on the deck,” Alicia says. “All of us, I think. Something’s happening, so let’s go.”

Al’s suddenly alert, and Alicia leaves her behind to get ready. Everyone else is out on the deck, gathered in clusters. Ray and Isabelle stand together to one side, near Daniel and Ofelia. Nick, Travis, and Chris are on the other end of the deck, near Madison and Strand. Everyone looks over as Alicia joins them. She goes to stand with her mother, crosses her arms over her chest. She stares out at the water, realizes the shore isn’t far away at all.

But there’s something else. At first, it just looks like a bunch of junk littering the beach, but Alicia realizes it’s wreckage from a plane crash – it’s luggage and pieces of the plane. Alicia’s lips part as her half-asleep brain tries to figure out why they’re lingering near the shore at the site of an accident. As she pieces it together, Al steps onto the deck, still buttoning her shirt.

“What’s going on?” Al asks. She joins Isabelle and Ray, kisses Isabelle quickly on the jaw.

“We have a unique opportunity,” Strand announces. “And you have the ability to make yourselves useful.”

Al’s eyebrows raise. “Sounds promising. So what is it?”

He points out at the shore, at the wreckage from the crash. “We need supplies. We’re almost guaranteed to find something worthwhile from that wreckage.”

“And what’s in it for us?” Isabelle asks.

“I won’t dump you on the shore. Right away,” Strand answers. He cracks a smile. “Bring some decent supplies back, and we’ll see how much time you buy yourself.”

“They could just run,” Chris points out. “They could take the supplies and run, so what’s the point?”

“I’ll go with them,” Alicia blurts. She doesn’t know what’s come over her, and she ignores the look Madison’s sending her, staring straight at Strand instead. “Let me go.”

“No,” Madison says before Strand can speak up. “I don’t trust them to keep you safe.”

“I can keep myself safe,” Alicia says, rolling her eyes.

“I think Alicia’s on the right track,” Strand says. “Ray, you can stay here. Let’s have Alicia go with Al and Isabelle, and –”

“I’ll go, too,” Nick pipes up. “I’m good at identifying medications.”

Madison grabs Strand’s arm, but he smiles. “Sounds like a good plan,” Strand says.

“Then I’m going, too,” Madison says.

“Mom, we’ve got this,” Nick assures her. “If we find any trouble, we’ll come straight back, isn’t that right?”

“Right,” Al says. “Don’t worry, Madison. We’ll keep your kids safe.” She grins, then winks at Madison, and Alicia thinks her mom is holding herself back so she doesn’t punch Al in the jaw. “But we are going to need some kind of a weapon,” Al points out.

“No guns,” Strand orders. “Alicia and Nick – you keep the guns.” Strand goes to grab two knives and holds them out to Al and Isabelle. “You can have your knives back.”

“Better than nothing,” Isabelle says to Al before she can argue. While Al and Isabelle accept their knives back, Alicia takes a knife of her own, but Nick takes nothing apart from a gun.

“Take the inflatable boat,” Strand says. “If you aren’t back before sundown, I’m going to assume you’re dead and leave without you.”

Strand is very good at pretending like he doesn’t see the death glare being shot at him by Madison. As Alicia and Nick follow Isabelle onto the _Abigail’s_ inflatable boat, Madison grabs Al by the arm, her grasp practically unbreakable. Al turns back, eyebrows raised.

“If anything happens to my kids out there, and you dare to bring your ass back here, I will kill you,” Madison growls.

“They’ll be fine,” Al assures her. She pries Madison’s hand off her arm. “Nothing will happen to them.”

*

The ride out to shore isn’t long, but it’s made in silence. Alicia sits at the back of the boat with Nick. She holds onto her knife tightly, but even as they reach the shore, there’s no sign of anyone – living or dead. Al and Isabelle hop out into the water to drag the boat entirely onto land.

“Alright, we need to be smart about this,” Isabelle says. “We’ll get the most important stuff on the boat first then take anything else we have room for.” She pauses, looking from Al to Alicia to Nick. “Stay close,” she advises.

Nick waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about us,” he says. He motions out toward where the bulk of the plane’s wreckage is. “I’ll be over there,” he informs. “Just pile up all the medications you find, and I’ll go through them when I get back.”

“Be careful,” Al warns. “I don’t want to die because of you.”

Nick shrugs. He saunters on over to the wreckage while Alicia starts busting open a suitcase that managed to stay closed during the crash. She doesn’t want to think about what led to the plane falling out of the sky, doesn’t want to think about the people that were on that plane. She digs through suitcases as mindlessly as she can, tossing medications into a pile near the boat, selecting clothing that should fit her or someone else on the _Abigail_.

Al and Isabelle stay relatively close to Alicia as they work. They carry a conversation, but their voices are too low for Alicia to hear anything more than a word here and there. She’s not worried about them. She has a gun. She’s not really good at using it – at least, not yet. And she’s never killed anyone before – not someone who’s still alive. But if she really had to – she bets she could, to save herself or her family. How hard can using a gun really be, anyway?

“What’s your brother doing out there?” Isabelle calls after probably twenty minutes. The sun is brutal today, and sweat drips off Alicia’s jaw, down the back of her neck, soaks into her shirt. She shakes her head and finally caves and ties her hair back while staring over at Al and Isabelle.

“How should I know?” Alicia retorts. “Go find out if you’re so worried.”

Al and Isabelle exchange a glance, and Isabelle gives a curt nod before she takes off to do just that. Alicia empties out another suitcase full of nothing useful and throws the suitcase aside with a grunt. There’s still plenty of shit to go through.

“We should use some of these suitcases to pack up the stuff we’re going to take,” Al suggests. “Make it easier to load onto the boat.”

Alicia nods then uses the sleeve of her plaid shirt to wipe sweat from her face. It’s the hottest day they’ve had in a while, and Alicia pauses her search for supplies in order to roll her sleeves up, sunburn be damned. At least, that’s what she thinks until she opens a suitcase and finds a bottle of sunscreen. She quickly slathers it on her arms, neck, and face.

“Hey, Al!” Alicia shouts. She waits for Al to look up before she says, “Catch!” and tosses the bottle of sunscreen her way. Al snags it out of the air and shakes her head, but Alicia smiles as Al smears sunscreen over her already sunburned skin.

It’s another five minutes before they speak again. “Okay, what’s going on?” Al asks. “What’s taking your brother and my girlfriend so fucking long?”

Alicia sighs and zips a suitcase full of supplies up. As she drags it over to the boat, she answers, “I don’t know. Maybe they found something.”

“I don’t like it,” Al says bluntly. “Let’s go make sure they’re not dead, yeah?”

Alicia nods and walks over to join Al. Alicia pulls the gun from her waistband and tries to look like she knows what she’s doing with it. Al, Isabelle, and Ray had all been carrying guns when they’d arrived, and Alicia assumes they know how to use them, assumes Al will know that Alicia really doesn’t know what she’s doing with a gun.

“You know what you’re doing with that?” Al asks, pointing at the gun in Alicia’s hand as they make the trek uphill toward the plane.

“Yes,” Alicia says defensively.

Al raises her hands. “Sorry. Just making sure.”

“I couldn’t give it to you even if I didn’t know what I was doing,” Alicia mutters.

“You don’t trust me.”

“Strand didn’t want you having guns, and I don’t want Strand kicking me off his boat.”

“He’d never find out,” Al dismisses. As the plane comes fully into view, Alicia realizes there’s a lot more of it intact than she initially thought. They’re staring at a large section of the cabin, but Nick and Isabelle are nowhere to be found. “Where are they?” Al asks, mostly to herself.

Alicia still answers, “Maybe they’re inside.”

“Then let’s go.”

*

They carefully step around the few walkers that are still strapped into their seats. Al keeps Alicia close behind her as Al takes the initiative and jams the blade of her knife through the eye socket of each walker. Alicia flinches each time Al kills one; it’s getting easier, but she still isn’t quite used to seeing these things up close, let alone seeing them die. They spot Nick and Isabelle at the very back of the cabin, Nick crouching in front of one of the aisles while Isabelle stands beside him, blocking Al and Alicia’s view of whatever’s going on.

“Hey,” Al calls warily. Isabelle’s head whips around, and she heads up the aisle toward Al, shaking her head. “What’s going on?” Al asks quietly.

“You don’t want to be here,” Isabelle says. She puts her hands against Al’s shoulders, and Al grudgingly stops walking, trapping Alicia behind her. Alicia still can’t see what’s going on past Al and Isabelle, can’t see Nick.

“What’s going on?” Al repeats.

Isabelle hesitates, eyes flicking past Al to Alicia before she answers, “There’s a survivor.”

Alicia’s eyes widen. “Well, okay then!” Alicia says before Al can speak. “We have to help them,” Alicia insists. Isabelle sighs, hands dropping from Al’s shoulders, and when Al doesn’t try to move forward, Alicia nudges her. “What are we waiting for?” Alicia demands.

“It’s not that simple,” Isabelle says. “The man’s trapped. We can’t move him.”

“Why not?” Alicia asks.

Isabelle’s voice drops low, and Alicia has to strain to hear her say, “He’s paralyzed, so I’m almost positive his back is broken. If we release his seatbelt, who knows what other kind of damage we’ll do to the poor guy. He’s in enough pain already.”

“So…what do we do then?” Alicia asks.

“That’s what Nick and I have been trying to decide,” Isabelle replies.

“You don’t get to –” Al begins, but she lets Isabelle cut her off.

“There’s nothing any of us can do to help him now,” Isabelle says grimly. She presses her lips together, shaking her head again. “Nothing we can do except – except put him out of his misery."

“So why haven’t you done that yet?” Alicia questions. “If you’re so certain that’s all that can be done?”

“We don’t know what a gunshot would attract,” Isabelle points out. “We could find ourselves swarmed with walkers.”

“Then we don’t shoot him,” Al says.

“What – how else…” Alicia lets herself trail off as Isabelle’s green eyes lock onto hers. Alicia suddenly feels a little faint and grabs onto the seat next to her and one of Al’s shoulders to keep herself upright. “You can’t let him do it,” Alicia whispers. “You can’t let Nick be the one – it can’t be him. Please.”

Al and Isabelle exchange a look.

“Go back to the boat,” Isabelle orders. “Take Nick and go back. Start going through the medications. Al and I will handle this.”

Alicia nods. Isabelle goes to get Nick, and he argues with her for a few moments before he relents and slides past Al to join Alicia.

“Let’s go,” Nick mutters. He grabs onto Alicia’s shoulder and leads her back to where they left the boat. He gets right to identifying useful medications, and Alicia halfheartedly continues searching through the luggage they haven’t gotten to yet.

“It was really bad, wasn’t it?” Alicia finally asks. “The man – Isabelle said he was paralyzed.”

“He’s paralyzed,” Nick confirms. “There was blood all over the seat around him, so if his back is broken…it’s bad. And we aren’t doctors.”

“They’re going to kill him,” Alicia says.

“It’s the merciful thing to do at this point.”

“I asked them to do it,” Alicia blurts. “Instead of letting you do it. I don’t – what if they can’t do it, either?”

“They’ll do it,” Nick says. “They have no choice.”

*

Al and Isabelle rejoin them after nearly ten minutes. Isabelle has a knife in her hand, the blade coated in blood, and she walks straight past Alicia to the ocean to wash it clean. Al doesn’t follow after her. Al starts digging through a suitcase close to Alicia. Alicia can’t help but to glance over at Al every few seconds, trying to gauge her reaction. Al’s expression is carefully controlled, but Alicia doesn’t miss the way her hands tremble as she throws useless items aside. Al uses the bottom of her shirt to wipe sweat from her face, but Alicia doesn’t miss the way Al keeps the shirt pressed against her eyes for a few moments before letting it fall and turning her back to Alicia.

But Alicia is surprised at how quickly both Al and Isabelle pull themselves together, and it makes Alicia wonder if they’re used to the level of violence that everyone’s now exposed to all the time. They’re journalists, sure, but maybe they’re used to seeing nasty shit.

Alicia can’t find it within herself to ask.

*

They spend at least another hour collecting supplies. They don’t talk much until they’re nearly done.

“I think we’ve gone through everything,” Alicia says.

“Alright, let’s get it all loaded up,” Isabelle says. “Then we can go.”

“Wait,” Nick says. “Do you hear something?”

They all pause, listen for a moment. “No,” Alicia answers.

“Just start loading up,” Al says. “Quickly.”

“Let’s just hope it’s not too heavy,” Alicia mutters. They get two suitcases loaded into the boat when Alicia hears it, too. She freezes and whips around, reaching for the knife at her belt.

“Keep loading,” Al says as the first walker comes into view over the hill. “I’ll hold them off.”

“Not on your own,” Alicia argues. “I’ll help.”

“Be ready to run,” Al tells her. “Once the boat’s loaded up, we’re out of here.”

Alicia nods. She tightens her hold on the knife as the herd of walkers stumbles down the hill towards them. She’s still not quite used to seeing these things up close. They’ve been on the boat for a few weeks now, isolated from the world. The first walker that targets Alicia is – no, she corrects herself quickly, _used_ to be – a woman. Maybe around Alicia’s age, maybe a little older. It’s hard to tell based on the way the woman’s face is disfigured. The skin around her mouth is torn away, revealing way too much of her teeth. Alicia swallows hard and brings the knife down with all of the strength she can muster. The walker goes still, and Alicia yanks the blade free as the walker hits the sand facedown at Alicia’s feet.

Alicia spares a glance over her shoulder to check on the progress Nick and Isabelle have made. There’s only a few bags left. Alicia turns back and kills another walker that’s closing in on her, formerly a bald man, wearing a tattered and bloodied dress shirt. And he’s tall. Alicia has to lean up to get the blade of her knife through his eye, and as his body drops, Alicia loses her grip on the hilt of her knife.

“Shit!” Alicia hisses. She hurries to retrieve the blade, having to step on the man’s chest in order to rip it free. In the few moments it takes to accomplish this, something grabs a fistful of the back of Alicia’s shirt and yanks her to the ground. She hits the sand, fumbling to hold the walker off. She distantly hears Nick yell. Alicia barely gets her arm against the walker’s neck in time to prevent it from taking a bite out of her. Every muscle in Alicia’s body strains to hold off the walker, and she’s lucky the walker is a woman that isn’t much bigger than her. If it’d been the bald walker that attacked her like this, she’d be dead by now.

Alicia grits her teeth, tries to find the strength to heave the walker off of her, when it suddenly goes still. Alicia exhales as Al’s knife slides out of the back of the walker’s head. Al grabs the walker by the back of the shirt and drags it off of Alicia.

“Thank you,” Alicia breathes.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Al grunts. She holds her hand out, and Alicia immediately takes it and allows Al to haul her up. “Go!” Al shouts, pushing Alicia toward the boat. Al whips around to kill another walker, and she kicks the body back into the herd converging on them. Alicia nearly collides with Nick, and they both launch themselves into the boat. Al sprints over to help Isabelle push the boat off into the water. Alicia watches dazedly as the walkers continue to follow after them, shambling into the water as Al and Isabelle struggle to get the boat far enough out to take off.

“Come on!” Nick shouts. “That’ll have to be good enough!”

Alicia and Nick each hold out a hand and drag Al and Isabelle into the boat as the walkers get closer. Al rolls into the boat, breathing hard, but she doesn’t immediately release Alicia’s hand. Alicia’s too stunned to realize she’s still clinging to Al, too. Isabelle recovers faster and starts the engine. The boat jets off back into the ocean, heading for the _Abigail_ , leaving the walkers to walk farther into the ocean.

“Your friend better not kick us off his boat now,” Isabelle says. She looks from Nick over to Al and Alicia, their hands still clasped together. “Better not even suggest that we leave,” Isabelle adds sharply. Al shakes her hand free of Alicia’s and finally pushes herself up into a seated position. “Or we’re going to have a serious problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	5. trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two finals down, two to go, then hopefully I'll have more time and energy to write and edit chapters. In the meantime, hope you enjoy this one!

“What happened out there?” Madison demands before the boat has even fully reached the _Abigail_.

“Nothing, Mom,” Alicia mutters. She climbs out of the boat first, ignoring her mother’s piercing gaze, and she reaches out for Nick to pass her the first suitcase.

“We found a lot of shit,” Nick informs. “That’s what happened.”

“I can see that,” Madison replies. “But you all look…spooked.”

“We’re fine,” Isabelle says curtly. “And that’s all that matters.”

Madison continues to hover over Alicia, even as she holds out a hand to help Al back onto the _Abigail_.

“We held up our end of the bargain,” Al says, drawing Madison’s attention to her. “We brought your kids back unharmed, and we brought back a shit ton of supplies.”

Madison blinks. “I’ll get Strand,” she says. “We’ll see what he has to say.”

“It better be something along the lines of _thank you for bringing back all of these supplies, feel free to stay on my boat_ ,” Isabelle calls.

Madison doesn’t reply, just disappears inside to retrieve Strand. They finish unloading the inflatable boat before Strand shows up. His eyes land on all the suitcases, and he grins. “Nice job,” he praises.

“Let’s get to it,” Isabelle says sharply. “We’ve brought back supplies, and Madison’s kids are safe, as promised. You gonna hold up your end of the deal or what?”

Strand laughs and points a finger at Isabelle. “I like you,” he declares. He rubs at his beard, taking a moment to think. “Don’t worry,” he finally says. “I won’t dump you on the shore just yet.”

“So we’re just at your mercy?” Isabelle questions. “Whenever you feel like ditching us, then that’s when you’ll throw us off?”

Strand shrugs. “Maybe. But you seem useful, even if it means three extra mouths to feed.”

“So we can stay,” Al says breathlessly. “Great. I need to go lie down.”

“Someone needs to help me unpack all these supplies,” Strand says.

“You’ll find someone,” Nick says, clapping Strand on the shoulder. “We collected the supplies. I think the four of us are off the hook for now.”

*

Al doesn’t move from her spot on the couch for the rest of the day. A few times when Alicia walks past, Al’s asleep, one arm dangling off the edge, fingers grazing the floor. Other times, Al’s staring up at the ceiling, sprawled across the cushions, wearing a mildly pained expression. Once, when Alicia walks by on her way to the deck to offer to play a game with Nick or Ofelia or anyone who’s willing, Isabelle’s cradling Al’s head in her lap, stroking her fingers through Al’s hair.

Alicia looks away quickly, feels like she’s intruding on a private moment. Alicia swallows hard, determined to reach the deck without analyzing the emotions that rise in her throat. Alicia reminds herself that she barely knows Al, even if Al saved her life. She reminds herself that Al is twenty seven, and she’s eighteen, and that a nine year age gap is insurmountable even if Isabelle isn’t in the picture – but of course, she is in the picture, so this little crush thing Alicia has going on is hopeless.

She still has to live with it, though. It’s not like Alicia can just switch off her feelings, no matter how irrational they may be. It feels like Al is the one person here who truly understands her, even if they only just met recently.

“Anyone up for a game of checkers?” Alicia asks when she steps onto the deck. She holds up the board weakly, looking from Nick to Ofelia to even Chris.

“Maybe later,” Nick says. “Daniel was going to show me and Chris how to fish.”

Alicia exhales heavily and nods, setting the game aside. She’s about to head back in, thinks about shutting herself in her cabin until dinner, but before she rounds the corner, she hears her mother ask, “Is she okay?”

Alicia stops, and maybe she feels bad about eavesdropping, but doesn’t feel bad enough to stop.

“Yeah,” Isabelle answers. “Just – we’ve seen a lot of shit, even before all this. It takes a toll on you sometimes, you know? She just needs a break.”

“I get it,” Madison says. “I was a high school guidance counselor, so I…I get it. If there’s anything we can do to help –”

“She’ll be okay,” Ray jumps in. “Always is. Just takes some time.”

Alicia hears footsteps – likely Madison’s – and Alicia rushes back out onto the deck. Ofelia looks up, eyebrows pulling together in confusion, at least until Alicia motions toward the seat next to her.

“You mind?” Alicia says.

“Not at all, but I’m still not going to play checkers.”

Alicia cracks a smile and drops down beside Ofelia moments before Madison steps out onto the deck. Madison stares at them curiously but just says, “Dinner’s probably an hour away.”

“You done going through those supplies yet?” Ofelia asks.

“Almost,” Madison says. “Good news is, we don’t have to wear the same three shirts anymore. And we’ve got plenty of antibiotics and painkillers.”

“Bad news?” Ofelia prompts.

“Not much food or water,” Madison says, which Alicia already knows. She was there, after all. “Not surprising, given most people don’t pack suitcases full of food when they get on a plane.”

“Daniel’s good at fishing,” Alicia says. “And he’s teaching Nick and Chris. Plus Strand’s kitchen is still well stocked. We’ll be okay for a while.”

Madison doesn’t say anything, but she walks over to Alicia, touches her palm to Alicia’s cheek. “We’ll be okay,” Madison assures her. Madison hesitates then licks her thumb and rubs at a spot on Alicia’s jaw. Alicia complains and tries to lean away, but Madison says, “You had a fleck of blood on you.”

“Oh, I –”

“Got in a bit of trouble out there?” Madison guesses. Alicia grimaces, and Madison smiles knowingly.

“I’ll let you have a moment,” Ofelia decides. She goes to join her father, Nick, and Chris, leaving Alicia alone with Madison.

“We’re all fine,” Alicia says quickly. “We weren’t – nothing happened.”

“I know.” Madison pauses. “Something messed Al up pretty bad, though. Can’t really deny that, can you?”

Alicia winces. “I don’t know what happened,” she says truthfully. “I mean – I wasn’t there when it happened.”

“When what happened?” Madison asks gently.

“There was a survivor,” Alicia says quietly. She glances around, but there’s no one close enough to overhear them. “In the plane. Nick and Isabelle found him, but he was paralyzed, and Nick said there was a lot of blood – we couldn’t have saved him, and it would have been cruel to leave him there.”

“So Al took care of it?”

Alicia shakes her head, exhales slowly. “No, I’m pretty sure Isabelle did, but Al was with her. I mean, I don’t really know what happened.”

Madison’s jaw clenches, and she stares toward the living area where Al and Isabelle are still on the couch. “I don’t trust them,” Madison admits. “Not at all.”

“They don’t seem like bad people. And I was talking to Al over the radio,” Alicia says weakly. “Why would she have wasted her time talking to me if she wanted to hurt us? She never asked me about what supplies we had or – or anything like that.”

“I mean, Al’s reaction – it makes sense,” Madison says. “But Isabelle – she doesn’t even seem affected by it.”

Alicia shakes her head. “We don’t know how she processes her shit. We don’t know what they’ve been through. We can’t judge them based on this.”

“We don’t know them,” Madison says. “And that’s why they’re so dangerous.”

“They’ve done nothing but help us so far,” Alicia points out.

“Because helping us helps them,” Madison retorts. “But if they had to choose between saving one of their people and saving you? They would choose their friend over you every time.”

“So would we,” Alicia says. “You would choose me over any of them. Daniel would choose Ofelia over you. Strand would choose himself over any of us!”

“Keep your voice down, please.”

Alicia sighs. “Sorry. It’s just – that’s how it is now, and we all know it. We can’t hold that against them. We can’t use that as a reason to refuse to trust them at all.” Alicia pauses, leg bouncing incessantly as she gnaws on her lower lip and thinks. It’s probably smarter not to say anything, but she still blurts, “Al saved my life on the beach, Mom. One of those – one of the infected could’ve killed me, but she saved my life, okay? I owe her.”

Madison’s eyes darken, but she just wraps her arm around Alicia’s shoulders. “Remind me to thank Al later then.”

*

Daniel, Nick, and Chris each caught a fish, so they eat well that night. Dinner, overall, is a quiet affair. Al gets off the couch for the first time since she first laid down, but she keeps her eyes down, eats quickly. Alicia can’t think of anything to say, so when she’s done eating, she heads to her cabin to sort through the new clothing they’d picked up earlier.

“Hey,” Nick calls, knocking on the door at least an hour later. “If you’re still up for that game of checkers, you have a taker.”

Alicia pulls the door open and says, “Well, go get the game then.”

Nick smiles. “Oh, I’m not the one who wants to play. She’s on the upper deck.”

Ofelia changed her mind, then. The sun is just starting to set, and the only people Alicia sees out in the open are Ray and Isabelle, both seated on the couches in the living area. Ray’s got glasses perched on his nose and a pen in hand as he works on a Sudoku puzzle. Isabelle’s stretched out on the other couch, a book in her hands. They don’t look up as Alicia crosses the room to get to the deck. She doesn’t see her mother or Travis, Chris or Daniel, on her way to the upper deck. Doesn’t see Strand anywhere, either, so she entertains the possibility that they’re off hiding somewhere, maybe drinking Strand’s alcohol.

Al’s waiting for Alicia on the upper deck, the checkers board already set up on the table. Al manages a small smile when her eyes meet Alicia’s. Alicia swallows hard, tries to urge her heart to beat normally as she takes her seat.

“I might actually stand a chance at winning this time,” Al jokes.

“We’ll see,” Alicia replies. She makes the first move then studies Al as inconspicuously as she can. The redness in Al’s face, neck, and arms has faded a bit. Her hair’s messy, and Al runs her fingers through it more than once as she contemplates her next move. She looks worn out, exhausted, but Alicia feels worn out and exhausted, so she can’t really blame Al for that one. But she also looks much more serious than she has pretty much the rest of the time Alicia has known her in person. And Al never seemed too serious over the radio, never for long.

Al double jumps Alicia, and that draws a real smile out of her. “Gotcha,” Al says softly.

“Maybe I let you have that,” Alicia teases.

“Please,” Al snorts. “You didn’t even see it.”

Alicia didn’t, but she just rolls her eyes and makes another move. She considers breaching the subject of what happened today at the beach, but she looks back at Al again and thinks maybe it’s better left untouched for now. Maybe they should play this game without bringing up anything psychologically damaging.

“King me,” Al says.

“Fuck you,” Alicia replies.

Al chuckles. “You don’t stand a chance now.”

“Well, I want a rematch.”

“We haven’t even finished this game yet,” Al laughs.

Alicia smiles and knows for sure she isn’t saying anything about their time on the beach. Not now. Not while Al’s smiling and laughing. Alicia isn’t going to be the one to ruin that.

“King me,” Alicia sneers.

“You can’t win now. It’s literally impossible.”

“I’m not going down without a fight,” Alicia insists. They play the game through to the end, and Al throws her hands into the air when she wins. “You won one game,” Alicia says, sweeping the remaining pieces off the board. She immediately starts to reset it for their rematch. “Don’t get too cocky.”

“I’m not the cocky one, remember?”

“Yeah, well, maybe my ego was knocked down a peg today,” Alicia mutters. She shakes her head and reaches for her waistband. She pulls the gun that originally belonged to Al free and sets it on the table. “I lied. I don’t know how to use it. I mean, obviously you just point and shoot, but – I’ve never actually shot a living thing or – or an infected person or anything.”

Al lets Alicia ramble on about the gun sitting on the table in front of them. Al’s eyes never leave Alicia’s face, and her hands stay clasped together on the table in front of the checkers board.

“I shouldn’t have lied,” Alicia says. “And I’m sorry, but – I couldn’t give it to you on the beach. Not after Strand said – but you might as well have it now. Strand’s letting you stay, and there’s no reason for me to carry a weapon that I can’t really use.”

Al nods, but she doesn’t make any move to take the gun. “I won,” Al says, “so I’m moving first.”

“Okay,” Alicia agrees.

Al quickly makes a move then says, “I’ve shot someone before.”

Alicia’s eyebrows raise. “You – you have?”

Al smiles wryly. Her eyes are dark, and they don’t lift from the board as they play, or as she speaks. “Yeah, when I told you I was a journalist…maybe I was using that term a little liberally.”

“What do you mean?”

“We are journalists,” Al says quickly. “It’s just – we cover warzones almost exclusively. I’ve spent most of the last five years out of the country. We came back shortly before the reports of a strange sickness started appearing. We were supposed to dig into the reports, uncover the truth or whatever.” Al pauses, shaking her head. “It’s your move.”

“Sorry,” Alicia breathes. She nudges one of her pieces forward without checking the board. Al promptly jumps her and removes the piece, but her expression doesn’t change. “And?” Alicia asks. “What happened?”

“We ended up in California,” Al says. “Ended up fleeing to our boat right before the bombings. We’d been tipped off, but just barely. Shit was – it was going bad.”

“You mentioned that the military couldn’t keep themselves together. What does that mean?”

“It’s complicated, and even I don’t know the whole story.”

“You know something.”

Al sighs. “Maybe we should talk about something else.”

Alicia relents, mostly because Al’s had a rough day. Instead of pushing her on the military issue, Alicia says, “Thank you. Again. For saving my life today. You didn’t have to – okay, maybe you did have to, if you didn’t want my mom to throw you overboard – but I…” Alicia pauses, swallows, and her hand shakes when she makes her next move. “I’m really glad I didn’t die today. Especially like that. I’ve seen – I mean, I don’t want to die like that.”

“I don’t think any of us do,” Al says softly. She jumps another one of Alicia’s pieces and exhales. “Being eaten alive is sure as hell not the way I want to go. But you’re welcome. I know you would’ve done the same for me.”

Alicia stares at Al curiously instead of taking her turn, forcing Al to look up. In the waning sunlight, Al looks young. Young and tired. Young and maybe even a little bit uncertain. Scared. Just like Alicia. Maybe under normal circumstances, they would’ve never had the chance to be friends. But maybe now –

“How can you know?” Alicia asks quietly. “How can you know I would’ve saved your life if our positions were reversed?”

“I’m a good judge of character,” Al says slyly. She sighs, pushes both hands into her hair. “You put the gun on the table,” Al observes. She reaches out and taps her fingers against it, but she still doesn’t take it. “Strand may be letting us stay, but he hasn’t personally offered us our guns back. You trusted me enough to give it to me.”

“You saved my life. That gave me a reason to trust you,” Alicia says. “But you? You still have no good reason to trust me.”

Al shrugs. “Will you make your next move please? Thank you. And I’ve already said – I know you. You were honest with me over the radio. I could tell. Don’t ask how. It’s a special talent. And now you’ve shown me that you trust me, so…I know you would save my life, if it came down to it.”

“You make it sound like we’re friends,” Alicia says carefully.

Al beats Alicia at the second game of checkers then meets Alicia’s gaze. “We are,” Al says, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Up for another game, or are you tired of losing?”

Alicia rolls her eyes, unable to fight off a smile. “We can play tomorrow,” Alicia promises. “I’ll beat you then.”

Alicia cleans up the game quickly, leaves it on the table, and slides out of the booth. She leaves the gun where it is, and she’s not surprised when Al picks it up. What surprises her is that Al grabs onto her shoulder, gently, just enough to get Alicia to stop heading for the stairs. When Alicia turns around, Al holds the gun out.

“Keep it,” Al says. “One of these days, I’ll teach you how to use it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	6. fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last final exam tomorrow, so of course I'm not studying! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

“You know,” Al says as Alicia flips the light on in her – well, maybe now that Al’s stay has been extended practically indefinitely, it’s _their_ – cabin. “Your mom came to thank me for saving your life.”

“I told her about it,” Alicia admits. She sets the gun in her suitcase with her clothes. “She figured out that – well, she knew something happened on the beach. And there was a bit of blood on my face, so she – I couldn’t lie to her.”

“It’s okay,” Al assures her. She pulls the covers on her bed back, kicks her boots off to the side. “She was very gracious about it.”

Alicia snorts. “Yeah, that sounds _just_ like my mom,” she says sarcastically. “ _Gracious_.”

Al cracks a smile and slides out of her pants. “She wasn’t mad at all,” Al informs. “She seemed sincere when she thanked me.”

“Well, I owe you,” Alicia says. “And I guess my mom does, too.”

“Letting us stay on this boat is more than enough,” Al replies. She gets into her bed as Alicia starts to shed her own clothes, replacing them with something more comfortable. “You don’t owe me, and neither does Madison. There’s no reason to keep score.”

Alicia ties the drawstring on her pajama pants then shuts the lights off and gets into her own bed. The silence is uncomfortable, heavy with the words yet to be spoken.

“I shouldn’t have –” Alicia stops to clear her throat before her voice has the chance to break. “I shouldn’t have asked you to – to handle the situation in the plane to spare Nick. That wasn’t – I had no right to ask you or Isabelle to – to do that.”

“Sure you did,” Al replies. “Maybe you two aren’t technically kids, but – Isabelle and I have seen more. We’ve done more. Neither of you should’ve had to handle that.”

Alicia squeezes her eyes shut, tries to will the tears that threaten to spill over away. “But that’s the world now,” she whispers. “You shouldn’t have had to do that, either.”

“Alicia,” Al says gently. “The world has always been like this. It’s just a lot more obvious and a lot more widespread now.” Al pauses. “Besides, Isabelle wouldn’t have let Nick handle that, whether you and I were there or not.”

“Still, I should’ve – it was wrong for me to ask you.”

Alicia thinks that maybe Al’s thinking about the same thing she is right now. About how Al spent most of the day immobile on the couch, like she was in the midst of a day-long panic attack. Alicia doesn’t dare to ask, doesn’t dare to even approach how Al’s day went after they returned from the beach.

“We should’ve just shot him,” Al says in a voice that’s barely audible. Alicia has to strain to hear her. “We would’ve lost time, sure. A lot of it, even, now that we know those walkers were nearby. But it would’ve been the humane thing to do.”

“We had the guns,” Alicia says shakily. “Nick and I – you couldn’t have –”

“Nick gave his gun to Isabelle,” Al cuts in. “She’s had it since she went to look for him inside the plane. He handed it right over.”

Alicia’s too dumbstruck to say anything. After a minute, she manages to stammer, “So – so Nick was unarmed that whole time on the beach?”

“Basically.”

“And you don’t need your gun because Isabelle has hers.”

“I don’t need a gun, because we’re relatively safe on this boat,” Al corrects. “But the point is – we could have shot him. It would’ve been easier. Faster. And better for him.”

“If you didn’t shoot him…” Alicia trails off. “I mean, Isabelle was the one – she killed him, didn’t she?”

“I did it,” Al says. The tremor in her voice is undeniable, and Alicia squeezes her eyes shut again, curls her hands into fists so they don’t tremble, even though Al can’t see her from across the room in the dark. “He – he knew it was over. Wanted it to be over, even. Begged us not to leave him like that. And Isabelle would’ve done it, but I didn’t want her – let’s just say, I owed her for something that happened a long time ago. But I could tell he was afraid, and it was – Isabelle had to pry the knife out of my hand after. That’s why she had it when we came back. But I killed him.”

“I’m so sorry,” Alicia whispers. She clamps her hand over her mouth, trying and failing to prevent Al from hearing her sob. “This was my fault.”

“No,” Al says sharply. “No, not even close. You can’t blame yourself for shit you can’t control."

Alicia hears Al throw her covers back, hears Al cross the room. Alicia inhales raggedly and tries to shove Al away from her, but Al easily knocks her arm aside and pulls Alicia’s sheets back.

“Don’t,” Alicia sobs, but Al shakes her head.

“No,” Al says. “Get up. Come on.”

She offers Alicia her hand, and Alicia takes it, slides out of bed. She stumbles straight into Al’s arms, sobs against Al’s neck as Al holds her. Alicia pulls herself together after a while and forces herself to breathe deeply as she grasps onto a fistful of the thin material of Al’s shirt. Alicia’s entire body quakes, but Al is unwavering; she’s a strong, steady presence. Al smells pleasant, like the fancy soap in Strand’s bathrooms.

“I’m sorry,” Alicia breathes, still unable to lift her head from Al’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t be – you’re the one who actually did something, and I just – I wasn’t even there. And now here I am, crying all over you.”

“It’s hard,” Al murmurs. “Everything we’ve already gone through. Everything we will go through. But eventually, it’ll start to get easier. I told you earlier I shot someone before. I guess I kind of lied. I didn’t just shoot someone; I killed someone. I’ve killed a few people, actually. To save myself or my friends or Isabelle. And as horrible as it is – it really does get easier every time.”

“You spent the whole day on the couch.”

Al huffs. “Yeah, you should’ve seen me the first time around. But nothing happened until I was back on the boat, safe. I managed to save your life after I killed that poor man, didn’t I? Sometimes it all just hits you later, once you’re out of danger. And we all process shit differently.”

Alicia nods. She releases her hold on Al’s shirt and starts to move back. Al’s grasp on Alicia breaks easily, and Al takes a step backward, out of Alicia’s space. Alicia sniffles, wipes the remaining dampness from her cheeks with the heels of her hands.

“Try to get some sleep,” Al advises. “Or at least lie down and rest.”

“You too.”

“And you should probably drink some water.”

“Yes, Mom,” Alicia says. She sounds more weary than sarcastic, but she still hears Al chuckle.

“Goodnight, Alicia.”

*

Alicia doesn’t remember the nightmare, only remembers waking up with a scream dying in her throat, with someone’s hands grasping onto her biceps tightly. Light suddenly floods the room as Alicia breathes heavily, more confused than anything.

“What’s happening?” Madison asks groggily.

“She was screaming in her sleep,” Al answers. Her voice is gruffer than usual, scratchy, like maybe she’s just woken up. Madison breathes an audible sigh of relief, and Al finally releases her hold on Alicia’s arms. Alicia’s eyes finally adjust to the onslaught of artificial light, and she realizes it’s still the middle of the night. Now, instead of Al hovering over her, it’s her mother.

“Hey, baby,” Madison says soothingly. She brushes Alicia’s hair back from her face. “It’s okay. Just a nightmare.”

“Mom, I’m fine,” Alicia grunts. “Jesus.”

“You didn’t sound fine,” Al pipes up.

“Mind your own business,” Alicia snaps. Al hums and returns to her own bed, rolls over so she faces the wall, and Alicia watches Al pull her covers up over her head to block out the light. “Mom, I swear, I’m fine.”

“Okay, well, maybe you should get a drink of water,” Madison frets. “I’ll be right back with that.”

Alicia sighs but lets Madison go get her some water. As she waits, she grudgingly says, “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Al.”

“No big deal,” Al says, voice muffled by the layers of sheets she’s buried under. “Happens to the best of us.”

Madison returns with a glass of water before Alicia can say anything more, and Alicia surprises herself by gulping down the entire glass. Madison continues to linger in her space, and Alicia doesn’t try to stop her mother from comforting her this time. She’s content to sit on the edge of her bed beside Madison, leaning her head against her mom’s shoulder. A small, perhaps petty, smug voice in the back of Alicia’s head – one Alicia regrets almost immediately – tells her she’s finally managed to capture her mother’s attention away from Nick, even if just for a little while. For once, Alicia’s mother is worried about _her_ rather than about where Nick is or what he’s doing or if he’s dead from an overdose.

Alicia has always come in second, but at least Madison is here now.

“Better?” Madison asks quietly. They’re both pretty sure Al has already fallen back to sleep on the other side of the room.

Alicia nods and hands the empty glass back to Madison. “Yeah,” she says. “I don’t even remember what the dream was about.”

Madison tucks Alicia’s hair behind her ear and smiles. “You had a rough day,” Madison says. Madison hesitates. “You know, if you want, we can go sleep out on the couches for the rest of the night. I don’t mind.”

Alicia seriously considers the offer. She’ll have her own space and the breeze from the deck, and Madison’s presence would provide an extra level of comfort.

“It’s okay, Mom,” Alicia says. “I’ll be fine here.”

“You sure? Travis won’t miss me. Too much,” Madison jokes.

Alicia rolls her eyes. “Go back to bed, Mom. I’ll be fine. Besides, now I know Al will wake up before me, and she’ll be ready for a fight.”

Madison cracks a smile. “Okay,” she concedes. She presses a kiss to Alicia’s forehead and heads for the door. “See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.”

Madison turns the light off and closes the door behind her. Alicia exhales shakily then gets back beneath the covers, but she finds herself wide awake. Even though she doesn’t remember the substance of the dream, she remembers the feeling it left behind. The terror and dread. Her heart continues to pound in her chest, too hard and too fast. When she closes her eyes again, she sees the walkers from the beach. The young woman with too much of her teeth exposed. The well-dressed, bald man. But she can’t conjure up a clear image of the walker that had nearly killed her. Her memory didn’t record its face.

Alicia opens her eyes, resigns herself to staring at the ceiling for the rest of the night. At some point, she hears Al grunt and fling the covers back from over her head, hears Al roll over and settle back in.

She wishes she’d taken up Madison’s offer and spent the rest of the night on the couch.

*

Alicia falls asleep again somewhere along the way. She wakes up sometime after sunrise because Al’s making noise while searching for something to wear.

“Oh, you’re up,” Al says. She yanks a plain white shirt over her head and pushes her hand through her hair. “Great.” Al grabs something and slaps it down on the bed beside Alicia, causing Alicia to jump. “I have a couple questions for you.”

“Huh?”

Alicia sits up, and her eyes land on the notebook she’d used to record what she was hearing over the radio.

“You were tracking things,” Al says, motioning toward the notebook. “Including me and Ray. Other people on the radio, too.”

“Yeah, well I – can I get up first?” Alicia mumbles. “Then we’ll talk.”

Al steps back, giving Alicia enough space to get out of bed. Al holds her arm out, stopping Alicia from heading for the door.

“You can shower _after_ we talk,” Al says. “I want to talk about what you wrote.”

“It’s nothing important,” Alicia dismisses. She shakes her head and flips to the first page where she’d written something about Al and Ray. And Danny, whoever that was. He never answered any calls. “I jotted some notes, okay? Before I’d talked to you, and – and only a few basic things about you after we’d first talked, and that’s it, okay? I never expected to meet you in person, and I – I didn’t want to forget.”

Al’s jaw is clenched, but she nods. “Okay. I believe you.”

“I don’t see why it’s a big deal,” Alicia says.

“You wrote down that Ray got the footage,” Al says.

“Yeah, but – footage of what? You never said, so who cares?”

Al pauses, pressing her lips together. She double checks that the window is closed then goes to lock the door. Alicia’s eyes widen, but Al walks back over and lowers her voice, like she’s worried about being overheard.

“Look, what I said about the military last night –”

“More like what you _didn’t_ say,” Alicia corrects.

“That footage – it’s the National Guard and the Army shooting at each other.”

Alicia’s jaw falls open. “What? It can’t be – are you sure that’s what you saw?”

“We have it on camera,” Al says flatly. She points at her bag on the other side of the room. “That’s the story we were getting before we fled to the sea. Some of the soldiers let it slip that California was gone, a lost cause, and we assumed the rest and got the hell out before the bombs dropped.”

“We can – I’ll burn the notebook,” Alicia says.

“Actually…can I have it?” Al asks.

Alicia startles. “I – yeah, sure. Take it.”

Al nods. “Might be helpful.”

Al takes the notebook from the bed and goes to tuck it into her bag. Alicia grabs clothes to change into, trying not to sneak glances at Al as she sorts through her belongings. But now she’s curious about what sorts of things Al might have managed to salvage when their boat was sunk. A camera? Footage of the military falling apart, sure – but what other kinds of footage might she have on her?

“Can I ask you something?” Alicia asks.

“Yeah.”

“Who’s Danny?”

Al stiffens. “I saw you wrote his name, but I didn’t – I wasn’t sure what you’d heard about him.”

“I heard you call for him, and he never answered.”

Al exhales heavily and shakes her head. “Danny is Isabelle’s brother,” Al says. “He never made it to the dock, and when he stopped responding – the last thing he said wasn’t encouraging.”

“He’s gone,” Alicia guesses.

“He’s dead,” Al says bluntly. “He didn’t make it to the dock. He didn’t make it out of the city. The city was bombed to hell, so Danny is dead.”

“You couldn’t get him out?” Alicia asks.

“We were separated,” Al sighs. “We weren’t supposed to be, but shit happens, and – we couldn’t go back for him. It wasn’t safe. Even Isabelle agreed that if we went back in, we’d die, too. We waited longer than we should’ve, but he never showed up, and he stopped responding. He’s dead. It’s not productive to assume anything else.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	7. gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I switched from school to work, and working in retail during the holidays is a killer. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter!

Alicia feels like she shouldn’t have asked about Danny, because now when she looks at Isabelle, she feels like she knows something she shouldn’t about her. And Isabelle has no idea. Maybe Al will tell her that Alicia knows about Danny. Or maybe Al won’t say anything. Alicia has no way to know. So Alicia feels even more awkward sharing a space with Isabelle.

Isabelle is awfully quiet most of the time. She does her own thing, and when she does talk, it’s normally in a hushed voice to Al or Ray. She doesn’t make much of an effort to talk to anyone else unless she’s forced to. When Alicia finally leaves her cabin, she finds Isabelle curled up on the couch beside Al. Both Al and Isabelle look up as Alicia walks into the living area, and Al smiles, but Isabelle just stares. Longer than Alicia expects her to. Alicia tears her eyes away from Isabelle and looks to Al before clearing her throat.

“Hey, um, you said you’d show me how to use this,” Alicia says, pulling the handgun from her waistband. “You think we could do that today?”

Al’s about to answer when Isabelle interjects, “You know, I’d love to show you.”

Alicia’s eyebrows raise, and she continues staring at Al, expecting her to object. To Alicia’s dismay, Al shrugs. “Okay,” Alicia agrees faintly. “My mom probably – I mean, if she finds out that you’re showing me how to use a gun, she probably won’t –”

“We’ll be careful,” Isabelle assures her. Isabelle grasps onto Al’s knee and uses her hold on it to push herself up to her feet. “C’mon. We can start now.”

*

Isabelle shows Alicia the basics then makes Alicia show her everything she just learned. They stand on the upper deck away from everyone else. Alicia’s almost positive that Madison is still in her cabin with Travis, and Alicia doesn’t want to think about why. She forces herself to focus on the gun resting in her hands.

“Got it?” Isabelle asks.

“I think so.”

Isabelle nods. “I’d have you try to hit a target, but if we put a bullet hole in Strand’s boat, I’m pretty sure he’ll shoot us.”

“Or throw us overboard.”

Isabelle cracks a smile. “You get it, then.”

“I suppose anyone can shoot something point blank, right?” Alicia says.

“You just have to be prepared for the kickback,” Isabelle warns. “And you should probably only shoot in emergencies. It makes too much noise, so if you’re going to shoot, make sure it’s worth it.”

“Right.” Alicia hesitates. “Did Nick say why he gave you your gun back?”

Isabelle startles. “I’m sorry?”

“He gave you the gun when we were on shore,” Alicia says. She glances toward the steps, but there’s no one there, and they’re talking too quietly to be heard by anyone on the lower deck. “Did he say why?”

Isabelle seems to piece together that Al must’ve told Alicia about this. “He gave it to me when we found Walter.”

“Walter?”

“The man trapped in the plane. Nick handed me the gun when I found him with Walter.”

“Why?”

Isabelle shrugs. “He didn’t say. Maybe he thought I’d use it to handle the situation. Or maybe he just recognized that we were better off if I had the gun.”

Alicia’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

Isabelle scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “Please. Strand wanted to keep weapons out of our hands while we were on the boat. He doesn’t give a shit about the rest of you. He just didn’t want me or Al or Ray to have a gun on us while we were near him. Strand is only trying to protect himself.”

“You have a gun right now.”

“And he doesn’t know,” Isabelle points out. “Besides, giving you and Nick the guns while we were on shore – no offense, but that was a stupid move. Here I am, showing you how to properly use the gun that you had on you when we were fighting off walkers. If that gun had been in Al’s hands –”

“Nothing happened,” Alicia cuts in.

“This time.”

“No one’s making you stay here,” Alicia says. “Your raft is still here. You could always go.”

“Even I’m not dumb enough to try that.” Isabelle shakes her head, exhales heavily. “Al and Ray are happy to stay here. I was outvoted.”

“If it’s Strand –”

“I’m not worried about Strand.”

“Then what –” Alicia cuts herself off as her eyes lock with Isabelle’s. She’s impossible to read. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“We have a job to complete,” Isabelle says. “And I have someone to look for.”

“In California?”

Shit. Alicia hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She could’ve tried to play it off as an innocent guess, but the panicked look that flitters across Alicia’s face tells Isabelle all she needs to know.

“Al told you,” Isabelle says.

“I asked,” Alicia says quickly. “I heard Al on the radio – at the beginning – calling for someone who isn’t here with you now…”

“And Al just filled in the blanks for you.”

“I mean, I gave her my notes, so I guess it was a trade.”

Isabelle’s jaw clenches, and she takes a moment before she says, “We have a job to finish. Al loves to go on these detours, learn about other people’s stories or whatever, but there’s still shit to do.”

“It’s over,” Alicia says. “What could you possibly have to finish?”

Isabelle takes a step closer to Alicia, but Alicia refuses to back down and holds her ground, staring up at Isabelle. “We were supposed to deliver some seriously damning footage to our superiors, and instead, Al’s been fucking around on the radio, which is likely what made us a target in the first place and landed our asses here.”

“You can’t really think there’ll be any way for that footage to get out now,” Alicia says. “California’s as good as gone. Who knows what the rest of the country’s looking like? Who’s going to see the footage? Or even hear about it?”

“We aren’t there yet.”

Alicia inhales sharply. “There’s no way to contain this. They tried, and the military abandoned us and gave up. I saw it happen. Travis may think we can go back to what we had, but – it’s really over, isn’t it?”

“The story still matters.”

“Maybe,” Alicia concedes. “But to who?”

To that, Isabelle has no answer.

“Alicia?” Madison calls from somewhere down below.

“Take this,” Alicia says. She holds the gun out. “There’s no reason for me to have it. Strand’s got us covered in the gun department.”

Isabelle takes the gun, and Alicia rushes off to find Madison.

*

“Where were you?” Madison asks.

“On the upper deck,” Alicia answers.

“Why?”

Alicia shrugs. “I was enjoying the view.”

“Right, well, Strand saw something pop up on the radar, so if you see anything while you’re _enjoying the view_ , let us know.”

“If Strand saw it on the radar –”

“It moved away from us,” Madison interrupts. “For now. Just – be alert, okay? If you see anything –”

“I know, Mom.”

*

“Why’d you give the gun to Isabelle?”

Alicia nearly jumps out of her skin. She closes her book and sets it on the bed beside her as she looks to where Al’s standing in the doorway. “Jesus,” Alicia says. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry. Why’d you give the gun to Isabelle?”

“I don’t need it,” Alicia mutters. “I’ve never actually fired one before. And if I did need a gun, Strand has plenty.”

“What’d she say to you?”

“She didn’t say anything.”

“Then what did you say to her?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Alicia insists. “And don’t try to put me between you and your girlfriend.”

“That’s not what I’m –”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing.”

“I’m sorry,” Al says.

“She already doesn’t like me,” Alicia says. “Stop trying to make it worse.”

“Did she say something?”

“She doesn’t have to. And if you want to know – why don’t you just ask her? Why are you asking me?”

Al steps fully into the cabin and shuts the door behind her. She runs her fingers through her hair and admits, “Ever since we lost Danny – she’s been pushing me away. I mean, there are moments where it’s like how we were before, but – I don’t know. Things are different now.”

“That’s bullshit,” Alicia says. “She lost her brother. I know if I ever lost Nick – she needs you to be there for her, but instead, you’ve been fucking around on the radio and searching for other people to talk to.”

“I thought you wanted to stay out of my relationship.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve made it very hard for me to stay out,” Alicia snaps. “I didn’t even know Isabelle existed until you showed up.”

“Isabelle didn’t want us on the radio –”

“I don’t care what your excuse is!” Alicia blurts. “I – just keep me out of your shit, okay?”

“What’s really going on, Alicia?” Al asks softly.

Alicia hesitates, thinking back to what her mom had said.

_But if they had to choose between saving one of their people and saving you? They would choose their friend over you every time._

“Nothing,” Alicia lies. “But I mean it. I don’t want to be involved in your personal shit, okay?”

*

“I’m going to tell you something, but you can’t say _anything_ to anyone. Especially not Mom.”

Nick’s eyebrows pull together, but he nudges his pawn forward and says, “Okay? Should I be worried?”

“No. But I’m serious, Nick. You can’t breathe a word to another soul.”

“Not even the infected ones?”

“That’s not even funny,” Alicia grumbles. She stares at the board but holds off on making her move, forcing Nick to pay attention to her. “Say nothing to anyone, living or dead, but especially not anyone living on this boat right now.”

“I got it,” Nick says warily. “What’s going on, Alicia?”

Alicia sighs and pushes both of her hands into her hair. She has to tell someone, and Nick is the safest person for her to talk to, but Alicia hasn’t quite figured out how to put what she needs to say into words. He gives her time, though, the way Alicia knew he would. He waits patiently for her to form the words.

“I think I might,” Alicia says slowly. She flips her hair over her shoulder, and her hands tremble until she presses her palms flat against the table. “I think I might have a crush on Al,” she says quickly, as if saying it faster makes it any less true.

Nick blinks. “I could’ve told you that,” he says, cracking a small smile.

“It’s not funny!”

Nick holds his hands up. “I know, I know it’s not,” he agrees. “But you’d have to be oblivious not to notice.”

“So everyone knows?” Alicia groans.

Nick laughs. “No,” he says. “Not at all. Travis is too absorbed with Chris, Mom is too absorbed with Strand and keeping us all alive, and no one else really cares enough to notice, I don’t think. So I’m pretty sure I’m the only one –”

“Watching me closely enough?”

“Exactly. Make a move, please.”

Alicia rolls her eyes and takes Nick’s pawn with her bishop. “She didn’t tell me,” Alicia says. “When Al and I were talking on the radio – she never told me about Isabelle.”

“Why would she?” Nick questions. “The idea that you might be into her was probably never on Al’s mind to begin with. No offense. You’re eighteen, she probably never expected to meet you in person, and she only considers you a friend anyway. Why would she talk about her relationship? It’s a little personal.”

“I talked about Matt. We got a little personal.”

“So? Look, I’m just saying, I see why she might’ve chosen to hold back. Especially if she thought she was protecting Isabelle by not revealing her existence over an open channel.”

“I guess you’re right. Check.”

Nick returns his focus to the board. He only has one viable move, and once he makes it, Alicia puts him into checkmate.

“No more chess,” Nick says.

“So – what? You don’t have any advice or anything? You’re supposed to be older and wiser.”

They both laugh. “You were supposed to go to Berkeley and you can’t figure out how to handle a crush?” Nick says. “Maybe there’s no hope for you after all.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Just back off a bit,” Nick says. “That’s my advice. Don’t get so emotionally invested in a friendship with someone you know you like and you know is unavailable.”

Alicia nods. “You know, that’s actually some pretty good advice.”

“I do have experience with some things,” Nick replies. He grins then stands from the table. “Winner cleans the game up.”

*

Alicia passes by Ofelia and Chris on the lower deck as she heads to her cabin for the night. She figures they’re the ones staying up for the night, now that Strand’s worried about whatever popped up on the radar then promptly disappeared. Alicia hopes if she goes to bed early, she can avoid seeing Al at least until morning.

She has no such luck. Al enters the cabin right as Alicia’s getting into bed.

“Hey,” Al greets.

Alicia grunts, “Hey,” in response, followed by, “Goodnight.”

“It’s a little early, don’t you think?”

“I’m tired.”

Al hums and pulls the covers on her own bed back. “You’re avoiding me. You spent all afternoon and all night with Nick.”

“He’s my brother,” Alicia says. “I’ve seen him more the last few weeks than I have the last few years.”

As Al turns back to face Alicia, eyebrows raised, Alicia realizes she should’ve said nothing at all.

“You didn’t see him much?” Al questions.

“It’s not important.”

“You just –”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Alicia says sharply.

Al nods and finally gets into bed. “You know, I thought about what you said earlier.”

Alicia closes her eyes. She shouldn’t take the bait. She shouldn’t, but she still says, “And what did I say?”

“You said I needed to be there for Isabelle, since she lost her brother. You said I spent my time fucking around on the radio instead.”

“Isabelle said you were fucking around on the radio,” Alicia says. “Before I said that to you – she said it to me first.”

“Sounds like her. She’s always hated when I’ve gone off on…tangents.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s focused on the main story,” Al explains. “The most important parts. I like to explore a little. Learn about the people. But anyway, I thought about it, and you’re right. I haven’t been there for her, and then we had to flee from our boat and everything’s been crazy since we got here.”

“Yeah, well, fix it before it’s too late,” Alicia mutters.

“But I realized – I don’t know how to help Isabelle,” Al confesses. “Even though all logic says Danny is dead, she’ll hold onto the hope that he’s alive until she dies or has indisputable proof of his death. And I – I mean, my own brother and his family, as far as I know, are trapped in Houston, or at least in Texas. All I can do is worry about them and hope against all odds that they escaped before any bombs dropped or before the dead got to them. And there’s nothing I can do. Apparently I can’t even help my girlfriend.”

They lay in silence for a bit as Alicia processes all the information Al has thrown at her. Alicia finally clears her throat and mumbles, “Well, there’s always tomorrow. You can try harder.”

“That’s very wise of you, Alicia,” Al says sarcastically.

“I’m eighteen. I’m not supposed to be wise.” Alicia heaves a sigh and rolls onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m supposed to be leaving for Berkeley, and I’m supposed to be making terrible decisions – like partying instead of studying. Instead, I’m making life or death decisions, and you’re here, and you have, like, real problems. I don’t know how to help you.”

“That’s not on you.”

Alicia rolls her eyes, even though Al can’t see her. “Can I go to sleep now?”

“Yeah.”

Alicia doesn’t sleep for long. Her eyes pop open, and before she can ask what’s going on, a hand clamps down over her mouth. Alicia’s eyes widen, but her eyesight adjusts to the darkness, and she can make out Al hovering over her, shushing her gently.

“Someone’s out there,” Al whispers. “Where’s the gun?”

Al pulls her hand away, and Alicia hisses, “I gave it to Isabelle, remember? You didn’t get it back?”

Al’s silence is the only answer Alicia needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	8. hostage

“We should stay here,” Alicia insists, quietly. She blocks the door with her body, but Al’s still trying to get Alicia to move. “My mom would want us –”

“Fuck that,” Al scoffs. “Isabelle could be out there – and Ray, and your family, too. We can’t stay in here and hope whatever’s going on stops. We have to help.”

“We’re basically unarmed,” Alicia argues. At that, Al crosses the room to where her bag sits and digs through it until she comes up with a sheathed knife. She pulls the blade free as she approaches Alicia, and Alicia’s eyes land on the knife. It’s a wicked looking thing. The blade’s long, a sleek black color, and it’s serrated. Alicia doesn’t want to imagine getting stabbed with that thing.

“You’re telling me you don’t have a knife on you?” Al asks.

“It’s in my suitcase,” Alicia admits.

“Go get it.”

“No. We should stay here –”

Al goes to get Alicia’s knife herself, and when she finds it, she holds it by the blade, offering the handle to Alicia. “Take it,” Al orders. “And stay behind me.”

“What good is a knife if they have guns?”

“Knives might as well be useless then,” Al concedes. “But if we can get our hands on a gun – or at least catch them by surprise – we might stand a chance. It’s better than nothing.”

Reluctantly, Alicia stops body blocking the door. Al moves into her space to grasp onto the door handle, and Alicia momentarily ceases breathing. Partially because Al’s way too close to her, but also because of the loud crash coming from the living area. Al opens the door as quietly as she can and pokes her head out into the hall. She must not see anything, because she slips out and motions for Alicia to follow after her.

Al peers around the corner, arm extended to keep Alicia back, but Alicia has no desire to see what’s happening. Hearing unfamiliar voices is bad enough.

“You stay right where you are, lady!” a man shouts. At who, Alicia has no idea. But the tone of his voice is enough to make her press her back flat against the wall and grasp onto Al’s wrist. “Or else your man here gets it,” the man threatens.

“Okay, okay!” Madison concedes. Alicia’s blood runs cold. “Okay, I’m down.”

“Jack, get them all zip tied,” the first man commands. “And you stay on the ground. I mean it. I’ll blow your husband’s brains out, and it’ll be a real shame, because this couch is really nice."

There’s a click behind Alicia’s head, and Alicia tightens her hold on Al’s wrist. The sound is unmistakable, and Al whips around, knife raised, but she’s too late. The barrel of the gun presses against the back of Alicia’s head. Al stares past Alicia, at whoever’s standing behind her, but then Al meets Alicia’s gaze, and Alicia tries not to look as terrified as she feels. Based on the way Al’s expression changes, Alicia thinks she’s failed.

“Move and your friend here dies,” a woman says, obviously addressing Al. “Now drop the knife. Both of you.”

Alicia’s knife clatters to the ground first, and after a long moment of defiance, Al drops hers, too.

“Who are you?” Al demands.

“Shut up,” the woman snaps. “I’m serious. Step out of line and you’ll be wearing the girl’s brains. Now let’s walk.”

Alicia finally releases Al’s wrist, and Al leads the way into the living area. Zip tied and seated on the ground in front of the couch is Madison, Chris, Daniel, Ofelia, Travis, and Ray. Isabelle, Nick, and Strand are nowhere to be seen.

“We got two more,” the woman behind Alicia announces. “Jack.”

The man Alicia figures is Jack steps up to zip tie Al’s hands behind her back. She’s forced to sit beside Madison as Jack gets Alicia’s hands zip tied together. Jack is young, maybe even Alicia’s age, and maybe Alicia is mistaken, but his eyes are apologetic, soft. He’s gentle with her, not securing the ties too tightly. Just tight enough to prevent Alicia from slipping free without some difficulty. Alicia sits on the ground between Al and Travis, and she turns her eyes to the man she’d heard threatening her mother.

For whatever reason, he looks vaguely familiar, even though Alicia has never seen the man before. Maybe he just has that kind of face. It takes Alicia a minute, but he sort of reminds her of a singer she used to have a crush on. She can’t for the life of her remember the singer’s name at the moment, not while this man continues to hold Madison at gunpoint.

“Is this everyone?” the man demands. He presses the barrel of his gun more firmly against Madison’s head, and Alicia doesn’t protest only because of the look Travis sends her. “Is this everyone?” the man repeats.

“I don’t know,” Madison spits.

“How can you not know?”

“Because I’m zip tied and stuck in this one spot,” Madison quips.

Alicia cries out as the man brings the butt of the gun down on Madison’s head. Madison falls against Al, barely maintaining consciousness as blood trickles down her forehead. Alicia strains against the zip ties, but she isn’t going anywhere.

The man turns the gun on Alicia, but Jack steps in the way. “Reed,” Jack says, holding his hands out. “We don’t have to do it this way.”

Reed – their leader, maybe? – keeps the gun where it is, even though it’s pointed at Jack now. Reed smiles, a nasty sort of contortion of his face, then says, “Oh, you like this one, huh?” Reed taunts. “She’s a pretty one, Jack. Maybe even too pretty for you.”

“Reed –” Jack says weakly, still standing in front of Alicia as the only thing separating her from the barrel of Reed’s gun.

“Maybe I shouldn’t threaten to shoot her, then,” Reed says. “Maybe instead I should –”

“Touch her,” Al snarls. “I fucking dare you.”

Before Reed can point the gun at Al, Jack grabs his wrist. “This isn’t helping us at all,” Jack insists. “You’re making them less likely to cooperate.”

“Get out of my way, Jack,” Reed commands, yanking his arm free. “We still don’t know if this is all of them. We don’t know who has the keys to the boat. And we don’t know who took the raft and fled.”

“Our captain fled,” Travis pipes up in spite of the look he receives from Daniel. “And our captain has the keys to the boat.”

Reed’s jaw clenches, his nostrils flare. He stops pointing the gun at Jack, and slowly, Jack shifts away from Alicia, closer to the woman who’d originally held Alicia hostage. Alicia just now realizes the woman is pregnant. Seriously pregnant. Probably eight months along. So they were hijacked and are being held hostage by a pregnant woman, a guy that’s probably Alicia’s age, and a man with some obvious anger issues.

“Watch them,” Reed orders. “If any of them try anything or even move, shoot them. Got it?”

“Yes,” the woman says.

Reed stares at Jack, eyebrows raised, and Jack finally mumbles, “I understand.”

“Stay here,” Reed says. He disappears onto the deck, and Alicia tears her eyes away from their captors, looks over at Madison. She’s only just lifting her head off Al’s shoulder, blinking rapidly as beads of blood roll down the side of her face.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the woman demands.

“I’m going to see what Reed thinks he’s doing,” Jack replies. “It’s not like they can go anywhere, Vida. I’ll be right back.”

“Mom,” Alicia whispers. Madison’s eyes lock onto her, but Madison shakes her head.

“No talking,” Vida snaps.

Maybe two minutes pass in near silence before a shot is fired out on the deck, startling everyone, even Vida. Jack and Reed walk back inside, and Reed announces, “Your captain’s raft has been taken care of. Now, which one of you can get this boat started without the keys? And if the answer is no one, well, then we have no reason to keep any of you around.”

“I can,” Travis says immediately.

“Dad,” Chris says. “No.”

“I can start the boat,” Travis insists. Alicia looks over at him, and she figures out what he’s doing: he’s buying them time.

“Wonderful,” Reed says. He motions for Travis to get up with the gun. “Come on then. Get up.”

Travis struggles to get to his feet with his hands behind his back, but he manages, and Reed leads him off below deck, gun pressed into Travis’s back.

“I’m gonna do another sweep of the boat,” Vida tells Jack. “In case someone else is hiding somewhere. Watch them, and don’t do anything stupid, Jack.”

“I know,” he mutters. Once Vida is gone, he starts pacing. Alicia watches him, hates that she feels a little bit bad for him. He looks conflicted, and he hasn’t touched the gun at his hip. Alicia looks to her right at Al, but Al’s preoccupied with talking to Madison quietly about how she’s feeling after being whacked with a gun.

“Jack, right?” Alicia says. Al and Madison’s conversation comes to an abrupt end as they both turn to look at Alicia in disbelief. “I’m Alicia,” Alicia says. Jack stops pacing.

“Alicia,” Jack says, and Alicia tries not to cringe.

“Yeah,” Alicia says. She hesitates, glancing in the direction Vida had gone, but there’s no one there. “I can tell you aren’t like them, Jack. This isn’t you.”

Even though Alicia’s receiving perplexed looks from everyone – her mother, Al and Ray, Chris, Daniel and Ofelia – she ignores them all, focuses on Jack. Because now he looks torn.

“I can’t talk to you,” Jack finally says. He jams his hands into his pockets. “Reed and Vida wouldn’t like it.”

“There’s more of us,” Alicia points out. “If you let us go – we can take care of Reed and Vida, and you can – you can stay with us.”

Strand isn’t here. Apparently, he’s not the _going down with your ship_ type. She might as well offer a spot to Jack, now that there’s an opening. And besides, once Reed and Vida are overpowered, once Alicia’s family has the upper hand again, it won’t matter.

But Jack presses his lips together and says, “I can’t do that.”

Before Alicia can try again, a gun fires, and everyone gathered on the floor instinctively tries to shield themselves. But the shot wasn’t fired at them. That becomes glaringly obvious as Jack hits the ground with a loud thud. The shot plus the sound of Jack hitting the floor is the kind of commotion that’s going to draw attention back to them.

“There’s not much time,” Isabelle says breathlessly. She reaches behind her and pulls a knife free – a serrated knife with a black blade. Al twists enough to give Isabelle room to cut her free. Al flings the broken zip ties aside and takes the knife from Isabelle. Al slices through Madison’s ties, then Alicia’s, then hands the knife to Alicia and motions for her to free everyone else. Alicia’s about to ask why Al can’t do it when Al flings her arms around Isabelle’s neck and holds on.

“There are two more,” Al informs when she releases Isabelle. “Another man and a pregnant woman. The man went with Travis to get the boat started, and the woman could be anywhere.”

“Well, someone will be here soon,” Isabelle says. She pulls Alicia’s knife from her waistband and holds it out. Alicia takes it once everyone is free and hooks it on her belt. Madison’s having a hard time getting to her feet, and Alicia joins Ofelia to help haul her up. Al steps past Isabelle and walks over to Jack. She yanks the gun free from his waistband, and in response, he yells out in pain.

Al hesitates, hovering over Jack as he presses his palms against his lower abdomen, near his hip, where the bullet tore through.

“Kill him now,” Daniel advises. “No point in waiting until he turns.”

“No,” Madison interrupts. “We could use him as leverage.”

“He’s as good as dead,” Daniel argues.

“But he isn’t dead yet,” Madison points out. She waves Alicia and Ofelia off, and they release her reluctantly, but Madison stays on her feet.

“They might not even care about him,” Ray says. “They might just come in here shooting.”

“We’ll be faster,” Madison assures him. “We have to get Travis, and rescue Strand – and where the hell is Nick?”

No one has an answer.

Isabelle grabs onto Al’s shoulder, finally getting Al to look away from Jack. He moans in pain, attempting to keep pressure on his wound. “Leave him,” Isabelle says.

“What do we do?” Alicia asks, looking to her mom.

“We have to save Strand,” Madison says. “He’s our ticket into Mexico.”

“He tried to abandon us.”

“Doesn’t matter now,” Madison says. “He took his inflatable boat. Let’s get the extra oars and take the raft that our new friends came in on. We’ll fish him out of the water –”

“If Reed didn’t manage to shoot him,” Alicia says sourly.

“Yes,” Madison says. “But we have to at least try.”

*

Alicia and Madison take three steps toward the deck before a gun fires. Madison, even though she’s already probably concussed, tackles Alicia and takes them both to the ground, risking even more damage to her head. Alicia doesn’t see it coming and has the wind knocked out of her from the impact. Someone grunts and falls to the ground, but Alicia can’t see who it might be. Moments after the first shot, there’s another, this time closer to Alicia and Madison. Two more shots follow, and there’s another thud.

“Mom,” Alicia wheezes.

“I’m okay,” Madison assures her. Madison manages to get to her feet and pulls Alicia up, too. Madison looks over her shoulder as Al drops to the ground beside Ray, pressing her hands to his chest. The gun she’d taken from Jack lays on the floor beside Ray. “Strand will have to wait,” Madison decides.

“No,” Daniel interjects. “Ofelia and I will retrieve him. And when we get back, the intruders better be dead.”

Daniel and Ofelia rush out to the raft, and Madison pulls Alicia along toward where Ray’s bleeding out on the floor.

“I missed,” Isabelle breathes once Madison and Alicia are in earshot. “I shot at a pregnant woman, and I fucking missed.”

“It’s okay,” Madison tells her. She bends to pick up Jack’s gun from beside Ray. “She shot at us first.”

“No, you don’t get it. She’s still over there,” Isabelle says, eyes wide. “She could come back.”

“Ray, stay with me,” Al orders, drawing both Madison’s and Isabelle’s attention to her. “Keep your eyes open! I mean it. Don’t – come on, Ray. Don’t do this.”

Alicia sits back on the ground beside Chris, too stunned to react. Isabelle’s still pointing the gun at the hall where Vida had popped up, but it’s probably more likely Vida took off when she realized she was being shot at. Maybe she’s regrouping with Reed. The possibilities speed through Alicia’s mind as Ray takes gasping breaths for air until they finally stop.

“Get back,” Madison says firmly. She grabs Al by the arm and forces her away from Ray. “He’s gone,” Madison tells her. “He’s gone, and he’s going to come back. Please. Go sit with Alicia and Chris.”

Al manages to scoot herself backward, sitting close to Alicia. Al props her arms against her knees, hands coated with blood, as she stares in disbelief at Madison as she takes Alicia’s knife from her and uses it to prevent Ray from reanimating. The look on Al’s face is heartbreaking, but there’s no time to grieve. Jack is probably close to dying next, and Reed and Vida are still somewhere on the ship. With Travis, no less.

“Mom,” Alicia says suddenly. “If Vida saw Jack – and since Isabelle shot at her – they might kill Travis.”

Madison gets to her feet, knife gripped tightly in her hand. “I won’t let them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	9. blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have recently gotten obsessed with The Wilds (highly recommended if you haven't checked it out yet) but I have not forgotten about this story. Updates will likely be sporadic, but I'm committed to seeing this story through to the end. Thank you all for coming on this journey with me. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

“You can’t just go down there,” Alicia hisses. She grabs Madison by the upper arm, pulls her back. “They’ll kill you, too.”

“I can’t let them hurt Travis,” Madison argues.

“Alicia’s right,” Chris says. “You can’t go down there.”

Alicia startles. She thought Hell would freeze over before Chris would ever agree with her – especially on something like this.

“I have a gun,” Madison says. She holds the bloodied knife out to Alicia, forces her to take it. “Stay here. Wait for Daniel and Ofelia to get back with Strand. And if Vida comes back – do what you have to do.”

“Mom, please,” Alicia pleads. “Don’t go down there.”

“Let me handle this,” Madison says. “Stay with Chris, Al, and Isabelle, okay? Protect each other.”

Alicia grabs onto Madison once more. “Mom. Please don’t go.”

Madison presses her lips together, touches her palm to Alicia’s cheek. “Baby, I have to save him.”

“Then let me come with you.”

“You’re safer here,” Madison says. She looks to Al, still sitting in shock on the floor, then to Isabelle. “You better keep my daughter safe,” Madison warns.

“Believe me, I’m trying to keep us all alive,” Isabelle retorts. She nods in the direction that Reed had taken Travis. “Go save your man.”

“Watch him,” Madison adds, pointing over to where Jack lies in a pool of his own blood. “If he dies, put him down before he gets up.”

“Just go,” Isabelle replies. She briefly meets Madison’s gaze. “I can handle this.”

Madison nods and rushes off. Alicia can’t do anything but watch her mother leave. And where the _hell_ is Nick?

“Look,” Isabelle says, turning just enough to see Alicia while still keeping her eyes on the entryway to the hall. “I’m holding the only gun we’ve got right now. Do you know if there are more nearby?”

Alicia shakes her head. “Strand keeps them locked up on the upper deck.”

Isabelle thinks for a moment then shakes her head. “That’s too risky.”

“Even if I got up there without running into Vida, I couldn’t get them unlocked,” Alicia says.

“You just better hope I’m a faster shot than Vida,” Isabelle replies. She glances down at Al, and Alicia’s eyes follow Isabelle’s gaze. “Try to talk to her,” Isabelle says. “Please.”

Alicia nods. She looks over at Chris, but he’s staring out toward the deck, watching for Daniel and Ofelia to return with Strand. Alicia drops to her knees, reaches out and tentatively grabs onto Al’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Alicia says. Al doesn’t react, doesn’t acknowledge her. “Al. We can’t just sit here.”

“What are we going to do?” Al asks flatly. “Ray is –”

“We have to get these people off our boat first,” Alicia says. Her eyes drop to Al’s hands, slathered with Ray’s blood.

“Here,” Chris says quietly. He pulls a handkerchief out of his back pocket and offers it to Alicia. She sends him a grateful look and takes it, uses it to wipe some of the blood from Al’s hands.

“You can’t go into shock yet,” Alicia breathes. “Please. We still need you.”

Then, after a moment, Al nods. Her hand closes around the bloodied handkerchief, and Alicia releases it so Al can finish wiping the blood from her palms.

“He’s going to get back up,” Al says softly. She nods in Jack’s direction.

“Okay,” Alicia says. “I – I’ll go take care of it.”

“You don’t have to,” Al says.

“I do.”

“Be careful,” Isabelle warns.

“Well, cover me, or whatever,” Alicia says. She hurries over to where Jack’s body lies motionless in a startlingly large pool of blood. She tightens her grasp on her knife and swallows hard. She has to step in the blood to get to Jack’s head. His eyes are open, but they’re lifeless. For now. He isn’t breathing. Alicia swallows down the panic rising in her throat and turns his head to the side. She’s killed walkers, yeah, but she hasn’t put down someone who hasn’t quite turned yet.

She raises her arm and completes the job, flinching at the squelching sound that happens as the blade goes through Jack’s ear and into his brain. Alicia instinctively releases the knife once it’s buried to the hilt in Jack’s head, and she exhales shakily. Her hands tremble, but she forces herself to take hold of the knife again to yank the blade free. It’s not as easy a task as she originally expected it to be, but she eventually manages to wriggle the blade free. She breathes as evenly as she can and wipes the blade off on Jack’s shirt.

It’s strange how the next part of Alicia’s life happens both too fast and too slow. She stands up, still struggling to breathe properly, body still shaking. She looks toward the hall at the same time that Vida steps into view, gun raised. Isabelle yells something, but Alicia just hears noise. Alicia freezes, but Vida isn’t looking at her, doesn’t have the gun trained on her.

Vida pulls the trigger, and Isabelle is sent flying. She collides with Alicia, but Alicia sees her coming and stops Isabelle from falling, steadying her enough to allow Isabelle to recover. Isabelle raises her own gun and empties the thing in Vida’s direction. A few bullets stick in the walls, but at least one bullet finds its mark, because Vida hits the ground along with her gun.

“Go disarm her!” Isabelle shouts. She shoves Alicia by the shoulder toward the hall. “Go! Get her gun!”

Alicia isn’t consciously aware of how her feet carry her toward the hall where Vida lies, bleeding. Alicia scoops up the gun, trying not to stare at Vida, trying not to find out where the bullet hit her. She’s still moving, so it probably wasn’t in the head, but Alicia doesn’t want to know. Once the gun is in her hand, she rushes back to Isabelle’s side, to where Isabelle’s kneeling beside Al.

“Why would you do that?” Isabelle screams.

“Alicia!” Chris calls. “Someone’s coming up –”

Alicia’s mind feels overloaded. There’s a possibly-almost-dead pregnant woman lying only a few feet behind her. Someone’s coming upstairs, and it might be her mother and Travis, or it might be Reed, the man who looks uncannily like some famous singer that Alicia still can’t name from the old world. Alicia glances down at Isabelle and Al, at the blood oozing between Isabelle’s fingers as she presses down on – Jesus, is it Al’s chest? Her shoulder? Alicia can’t tell from her angle, and she can’t find out yet, because the person that leads the way into the room is Reed, the barrel of his gun pressed against Madison’s bloodied forehead.

“Don’t even think about moving,” Reed snarls. “Or I’ll kill your mom, I swear to God.”

Alicia swallows hard even though her mouth has gone dry. “If you kill her, you have no leverage,” Alicia says. She raises Vida’s gun, aiming it at Reed. At least, she thinks that’s where she’s aiming it. She’s new to this whole shooting thing; she can’t be sure if she’d even hit him if she pulls the trigger. “And then what’s stopping me from killing you?”

Reed hesitates. He looks down at Jack’s body, surrounded by blood, then looks toward the hall where Vida’s still lying.

“You killed them,” Reed hisses.

“She might not be dead,” Alicia replies. “Might even live, if you do something fast.”

“Do _what_?”

“Let my mom go and put the gun down. Then you can take Vida and get out of here.”

Reed smiles, sweat dripping down his face. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen. Looks like your friend’s in need of some help.”

Alicia doesn’t move, tracking Reed with the gun as he shifts closer and closer.

“Where’s Travis?” Alicia asks.

“You have more important things to worry about right now,” Reed replies. He stops walking right in front of the opening to the deck. Madison doesn’t look at Alicia; she’s looking down at where Al’s lying, Isabelle’s hands pressed against the wound left by the bullet Al took for her. “Here’s how this is going to go,” Reed says. “I give you your mom, and you let me go.”

“Travis,” Alicia says. “Where is he?”

“Don’t worry,” Reed says, “your dad is fine. Still working on that engine for you.”

“Let her go,” Alicia instructs. “And then you can leave.”

Reed lowers the gun from Madison’s head but continues to point it at her as he backs away, out onto the deck. Alicia keeps her gun aimed at him, too. Once Reed is close to the boat he’d come on with Jack and Vida, he finally lowers the gun. Right as he turns to get onto the boat, a gunshot echoes throughout the night air, and Reed hits the deck, unmoving.

“Daniel!” Madison exclaims. She runs out to help Daniel and Ofelia board the _Abigail_ and get a near-hypothermic Strand off the raft. Alicia finally exhales and rushes to help Isabelle with Al.

“Go find Travis,” Alicia tells Chris, and he nods and takes off. “Where was she shot?” she asks Isabelle.

“I’m fine,” Al says through her teeth. “It’s just –”

“Her shoulder,” Isabelle answers. “I think the bullet went all the way through, but I can’t be sure unless I see it.”

“Don’t you fucking move me,” Al breathes out.

“You’ll forgive me,” Isabelle says. “Alicia, I need a first aid kit. Some water. Bandages or gauze. Whatever you have. Bring it all here, okay?”

“You know first aid?” Alicia asks dumbly.

“You don’t survive in warzones without knowing a little first aid,” Isabelle replies wryly. “Go. Please.”

Alicia realizes the first aid kit is in the bathroom, and she’ll have to step around Vida to get there. Her heart hammers in her throat as she approaches Vida, and Alicia finally forces herself to look. The front of Vida’s shirt is soaked with blood, and that tells Alicia everything she needs to know. She steps over Vida and reaches the bathroom, grabs the first aid kit, and returns to Al’s side to drop off the kit. Alicia heads to the bar and snatches a few bottles of water.

“Help me roll her,” Isabelle says when Alicia rejoins her. “Then I need you to pour water over the back of Al’s shoulder. If the bullet didn’t go through – let’s just hope to God it did, okay?”

“Okay,” Alicia says.

“Wait,” Isabelle says. “Take your belt off.”

“What?”

“Do it,” Isabelle insists. “And then put it in Al’s mouth. Give her something to bite onto.”

“Don’t do this,” Al hisses. “Do _not_ – I’m serious, Isabelle. Don’t move me.”

“Stop,” Isabelle pleads. “You took this fucking bullet for me. The least I can do is try to prevent you from dying of an infection.”

Alicia removes her belt, does as Isabelle said. Together, Alicia and Isabelle roll Al onto her side. Isabelle rips Al’s shirt open enough to expose the back of the wound, and Alicia pours water over it, watching the blood clear away. Alicia flinches as Al screams but forces herself to keep pouring water, watching blood continue to run out of what must be an exit wound.

“Okay, that’s an exit wound,” Isabelle confirms. “Get the – the gauze and press it against the wound, okay? If there’s no medical tape, duct tape will do.”

Alicia doesn’t see any medical tape in the first aid kit. She presses a wad of gauze against the wound, helps Isabelle lower Al down onto her back, and presses another wad of gauze against the entrance wound.

“Tape,” Isabelle reminds.

“I – I’ll find some,” Alicia promises. She scrambles to her feet and runs out to the deck just in time to see Daniel put a bullet in the back of Reed’s head. “Mom! We need duct tape.”

“There’s some in the toolbox downstairs,” Madison says. She wraps another blanket around Strand then looks back at Alicia. “Al’s alive?”

“Isabelle’s working on it,” Alicia says breathlessly. “I think Vida – the pregnant woman – I think she’s still alive, but she won’t be for long.”

Madison nods. “Don’t worry about that. Take care of Al.”

“Is Travis –?”

“He’s alive,” Madison assures her. “Go get the duct tape.” As Alicia rushes to find the duct tape, she hears Madison ask Strand, “Where is my son?”

Alicia doesn’t hear the answer.

*

The bodies of the invaders are all dumped overboard unceremoniously by Daniel. Ofelia and Travis busy themselves with cleaning up all the blood around the _Abigail_. Chris disappears into his cabin. Madison washes the blood from her face and hair. Alicia helps Isabelle wrap Ray’s body in a sheet and drags him out onto the deck for later. Strand lies under a bundle of blankets by his steering wheel with only Madison to keep him company.

Nick is still nowhere to be found, but Strand finally confesses that he sent Nick to the shore to find the man that’s going to get them into Mexico. Strand promises Nick will be back later in the day, now that the sun has finally risen.

Al sleeps on the couch, shoulder heavily bandaged, but at least Alicia and Isabelle managed to get the bleeding to stop. Al might sleep through the rest of the day. They aren’t really sure when the drugs will wear off, but they followed the instructions on the label. Isabelle doesn’t leave her side, and Alicia thinks Isabelle might sit on the floor beside Al all day, doing nothing except watching Al sleep, ensuring she continues to breathe properly.

“I’m sorry,” Alicia says when everyone else has cleared out of the living area. “About Ray. I’m sorry –”

“There’s no need to apologize for something that isn’t your fault,” Isabelle says. Her voice is flat; her green eyes are weary. Isabelle leans against the edge of the couch near Al’s head, barely keeping her eyes open herself. Her clothes are stained with Al’s blood, but Alicia can’t judge her. Alicia’s not even sure whose blood she’s wearing, doesn’t even really remember how she got blood on her at all.

“Still,” Alicia says. “He was your friend.”

“He was our coworker,” Isabelle replies.

“Then why was he with you?” Alicia asks.

“We were finishing a job,” Isabelle says. “And his entire family is dead.” She heaves a sigh, runs her fingers through her hair. “Now Ray is, too.” Isabelle’s eyes land on Al’s face. Al looks peaceful, and Alicia envies the kind of sleep that the drugs Al took can provide.

“Maybe you should rest,” Alicia says. “It’s been a long night.”

“I’m not leaving her.”

“I didn’t say you should,” Alicia says. She motions toward the open couch. “If you want, I’ll stay and make sure she doesn’t die.”

“Al’s not going to die,” Isabelle says. “She hasn’t yet. She’s not going to.”

Isabelle sounds so confident that Alicia finds no reason to argue with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!

**Author's Note:**

> I've got finals coming, so I'll upload chapters when I can, but it's possible this could be a wait. I've got a few written in advance, but by the end of December, I'm hoping to have plenty more time to write.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


End file.
